A Good Man is Hard to Find
by Mr. Gregor Samsa
Summary: Stewie Griffin has grown up to be one of the most powerful, wealthy men in the world. He is cold, emotionless, and isolated. It takes a surreal turn of events to change his outlook on life and his outlook on love. BrianStewie-Takes place later in life-R
1. Introduction

Hello all!

This is my first story in the Family Guy universe. It's a little more on the serious side, but I'll definitely try and slip some of the classic Family Guy humor in there after it gets started. 

This doesn't exactly take place in an AU, but I didn't really know how else to describe it. It's much later in life for the Griffins, and it has some surreal aspects to it. 

So please read and review! I hope you enjoy the sick inner-workings of my mind!

_"I call myself "the Misfit" because I can't make what all I done fit what all I gone through in punishment." _-Flannery O'Conner, A Good Man is Hard to Find_  
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**INTRODUCTION**

     Stewart Gilligan Griffin: international multi-millionaire by age twenty-two, and fourth wealthiest man in the world by age twenty-three. The man was a genius and always had been. It seemed he always knew exactly where he was going and what he was going to do in life. He was attending Yale by the time he was fifteen; he was too young to get in to mischief, yet too old at heart to desire it. He spent long ours pouring over his work in the library, sometimes falling asleep there only to wake up the next day not know where he was or how he got there. Of course, his classmates ostracized him: younger than all of them, yet making better grades. He found solace in classical music. Taking on mastery of the piano at the age of six, he never relinquished what it had to offer. After graduating at the age of 19 with a Masters degree in Business and Economics, he moved to New York where he resides today.


	2. Mundane

**Chapter 1 - Mundane **

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"Mr. Griffin, your mother is on line 7." Came the nasally voice from over the intercom. Stewie groaned, rubbing his sore eyes with one hand as he pressed the flashing button.

"Yes, Mother, what is it this time?" he asked droningly.

"Stewie, sweatheart, I just wanted to make sure you were coming home for Christmas! You know… we haven't seen you in 4 years, honey. Everyone really misses you!" Lois assured, her voice stricken with a certain sadness. _I hardly believe that._ Stewie thought to himself.

"I'm really not sure, Lois. I simply can't take off two weeks from work like that. I don't think you are able to fully comprehend exactly what my job entails." Stewie explained, his voice monotone and emotionless.

"Stewie, baby, Mommy misses you."

"For Christ's sake, woman, I am not your baby anymore!" he roared. There was silence on the other end for quite some time.

"Well…" she started finally. "you are always welcome, you know that, right? This is still your home, Stewie Griffin." And with that she hung up.

Stewie felt another headache coming on. Sighing, he situated his glasses and continued on with business for the day. Rain splattered against the glass windows of his lofty office. It was cold and gray outside. November was quickly fading as December crept in to take its place. December was probably the best month for the business. Companies thrived, leaving little reason for him to sell. The pitter-patter of rain made Stewie's eyelids feel extremely heavy.

He got up from his chair, dragging his feet over to the window. He felt the cold creeping under his skin and into his veins. Leaning his forehead up against the window, he imagined the glass shattering, his body limply falling to the ground below. Just another grease stain on the street.

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_ Sorry the chapters are so short for now. Got to get the underplot flowing before we can take off into the good stuff!_

_Thanks for sticking around!_


	3. Life Smells Sweeter

_A/N: I obviously don't own these characters... I believe that's the point of , so you won't hear me say this again._

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Chapter 2 - Life Smells Sweeter...

Brian felt air surge into his lungs. It hurt. He coughed. Did he cough? He couldn't feel much. He couldn't seem much, for that matter. Everything was white. What was the last thing he remembered? Well, he remembered lying in the living room on the floor. He didn't usually lie on the floor. Stewie had come over and sat down beside him, 5 years old and entering third grade. They didn't really say anything. Brian remembered how weak he felt, and how he just wanted to sleep. He remembered Stewie putting a hand on his head and telling him something. He remembered Lois walking in the door with a bad of groceries. Then he didn't remember anything else.

Now where was he? Everything was bright, blindingly so. He raised his hand to cover his eyes; feeling not paws, but fingers.

"What the… hell?" he spoke. Or did he speak? He couldn't tell. His head was spinning. At least the light was beginning to fade. Shapes began to take form around him. The smell of sweat and sewer began to reach his nostrils, still retaining his dog-like receptivity to smell. It was overwhelming. He crinkled his nose, raising his hands to his face, feeling human like features beneath the sensitive pads on his fingertips.

He let out a yelp as his eyes began to focus. He was sitting in a dimly lit ally, cold and damp. If he had to estimate, he'd say it was between nine and eleven o'clock at night. His heart began to beat heavily in his ears as a figure approached him from the street.

"Sir, are you okay?" it was a woman. As she got closer, she stopped and began to back away.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Brian barked (figuratively speaking), massaging his temples as he attempted to slide up the wall.

"Just… wanted to make sure." She said weakly, her smile faltering as she backed out into the light of the street, afraid of the shaggy looking man emerging from the shadows.

_What the hell was her problem?_ Thought Brian, rubbing his head to find a thick mass of hair atop it. Letting out a grunt, he stumbled out into the bustle of the sidewalk, still shaky on his now stilt-like legs. He somehow had clothes on. They were tattered and worn, but at least they were clothes: a brown leather jacket that was rubbed to suede in some places, an ambiguously colored dark sweater with various rips and tears, and an off-color pair of old jeans. His shoes, however, looked brand new. At the moment, however, Brian could care less about the age of his shoes or the holes in his jeans. There were questions to be answered. He stumbled against the crowd on the bustling sidewalk, looking for a newspaper stand, or anything that could give him any sort of idea as to the time, date, of even year.

After bullying his way down three and a half blocks, Brian finally came across a small newspaper stand only to realize that he had somehow landed himself eighteen years in the future since he last recalled being awake, and in the Big Apple, of all places. Not only that, but he was no longer a dog. He caught his reflection in the dusty window of the shop next to him.

"Well hey there…" he grinned, walking over to the window. "Not too shabby now are we?" he chuckled, running his hand along his rough, unshaven jaw. His head was covered in thick, white hair. Odd, yet predictable. Brian let out another laugh, this one dry in disbelief.

"I must be dreaming…" he said out loud.

"Then your world is a nightmare." Said a passerby, causing Brian to laugh even harder. Jesus it felt good to be alive. His senses were tingling with every sound and smell. It was as though he hadn't smelled, seen, or heard anything for a very long time. Well, according to the dates, he hadn't. But, God, why the hell was he a human? Smiling and straightening his collar, his steely blue gaze flashing dangerously at two women making eyes at him across the sidewalk, he continued on down the street.

Scanning his surrounding environment for anything familiar, he decided to stop in a small ABC liquor store for his first stop. Checking all of his pockets thoroughly, his fingers finally found their way around a smooth folding wallet made out of a dark brown leather. Upon inspection he found a picture ID of himself as a human with his correct birth date. In human years, that made him about thirty years old. Brian found himself almost laughing hysterically as he found six hundred dollars in cash also in the wallet. Right now, he no longer cared about the unanswered questions; all he wanted were some booze and some smokes.

Strolling into the store with a lively spring in his step and a twinkle in his smile, he grabbed a bottle of Grey Goose and headed up to the counter, giving the cashier an almost unsettlingly sincere evening greeting. He returned Brian's enthusiasm with a sneer and his change. After also acquiring a pack of cigarettes and winding his way through the back allies of New York, Brian settled down on the stoop of a run-down apartment building, tearing into the brown bag of sweet, sweet booze.

Drinking and smoking himself into a slumber, Brian's dreams were colorful and vivid, unlike anything he had ever experienced as a dog. He smiled in his sleep, his leg twitching as he continued to dream.

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_Sorry it took so long. Finally got a break from school to where I could actually go home and have some peace and quiet. _

_This chapter was sloppily beta'd by yours truly, so forgive me for any careless mistakes. Hopefully things are picking up for you now. _

_Thank you for all the reviews! Hope you can stick with it._


	4. Carpe Diem Baby

_**A/N: **Thanks to those of you who have been sticking with me so far! I really appreciate the reviews. I've been procrastinating like hell to get these next few chapters written. I've been on a roll, which has been nice. I couldn't think of a title, so I went rummaging through iTunes and eventually picked a Metallica song. Sorry for my lack of creativity. _

_Again, things will really start to pick up from here on out. Lots of unanswered questions! I hope I have the answers...._

_- Mr. Samsa _

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Chapter 3 - Carpe Diem Baby

Brian gurgled himself back into actuality. Everything moved about with a fuzzy outline and he had trouble recalling what had happened the previous night. The haze of alcohol was still thick around him, causing the light of morning to burn his eyes. He lifted a hand to block the light, finding a trend in his awakenings thus far. After sitting for a few moments becoming adjusted to the reality of being awake, he attempted to move. Standing proved difficult, as he stumbled off the stoop and into a couple walking past. He mumbled his apologies as they briskly walked away in disgust.

Stumbling his way down the sidewalk, he groggily decided that today he should try to contact the family, if he could even find them. Still hissing and squinting his eyes in attempts to spite the sun, Brian leaned up against the side of a nearby building, digging in his pocket for his wallet once again. He had been lucky so far; maybe it had something else of use for him. After a sufficient amount of rummaging, all he managed to come across were two movie tickets, a membership card for a bookstore, a business card from some place with a weird name, a coupon for free coffee on the house, and two condoms.

"Wonderful." Brian thought. "This is the perfect wallet to have on a date." He exhaled, twiddling with the business card. Except for this thing. He read the company's name once again. _GIWDR. _

"Giwedr?" Brian said out loud. "What the hell does Giwedr mean?" he asked, flipping the card around, only to find his answer: _Griffin Industries for Weapons Development and Research._ Brian's hopes soared for an instant until his logic gave him a stern kick in the gut. There are countless amounts of Griffins out there, not to mention that he was in New York, New York, which was at least a good hundred miles away from Rhode Island. Sighing and gingerly turning the card around in his hand a few times he came to the conclusion of "what the hell?"

There was an address and a phone number given, but no name. _Damn it._ Brian cursed internally, gathering his courage as he marched on in pursuit of his only possible hope of familiar contact. His mind was a buzz with questions. Which one of the Griffins could it be? Of course, one definite answer came to mind, but he tried not to get his hopes up. For all he knew, Meg could have turned out to be an absolute genius in weaponry. Suppressing a scoff, Brian rounded a corner to see a frightening edifice rising up at the street's end before him. The unmistakable logo of GIWDR seemed to beckon him towards it. His throat became dry and he checked his reflection in a nearby window, smoothing his hair back and attempting to straighten out his jacket. God, he looked like a bum.

Once inside the main lobby, Brian couldn't help but gawk at the high ceilings and marble pillars shaded deep golds and ebonies. Everything seemed to echo. Once in the center of the room, he almost broke his neck attempting to take in the sight above him. The ceiling opened up going straight to the top of the building in the shape of a cylinder, office windows facing the inside of the lobby, proving a horrible death for anyone who would be unfortunate enough to crash through one. It reminded Brian of a wormhole.

"May I help you sir." A voice echoed from across the lobby. Brian snapped out of his trance catching the gaze of a man eyeing him suspiciously from behind a counter. Feeling slightly flustered, Brian walked briskly over to the counter, attempting to smile warmly at the man.

"Hey there, how you doing?" he asked. No answer. "I was just wondering if you could give me the name of… uh… the guy, or girl…" he added hastily "that's in charge of this whole big operation." He ended with a smile. The man was not amused.

"Stuart G. Griffin. Do you need any further information?" he spouted mundanely, his voice dripping with annoyance and cynicism. Brian could barley contain himself, feeling a terrible need to laugh uncontrollably.

"Yes, actually." He coughed out. "I'm an old friend of the family and I was just trying to make sure I was in the right place. Could you tell him that Brian Griffin would like permission to see him." he finished, beaming happily.

"I'll have to check and make sure Mr. Griffin is in today. If you'll have a seat, I'll call up and see what we can do for you… uh… _Mr. Griffin_." The man sneered.

Brian's hopes dropped significantly. He didn't think he could wait another day in this sick twisted form of solitary confinement. He drifted over to a nearby chair, plopping down despondently. His eyes shifted around nervously as men and women in suits passed him, gazing down with disapproving eyes. He felt smaller than he ever did as a dog.

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"Mr. Griffin, there is a man down here who claims he knows you. Says he's a friend of the family." Came the scratchy voice over the intercom. Stewie groaned, slamming his pen down on his desk. One would be surprised at how many times people would come in claiming some distant relation to Stewie. Anything to get at some of the riches.

"Did he give you a name?" Stewie asked irritably.

A pause.

"A Mr. Brian Griffin." Came the reply. Stewie's eye twitched. Whoever this son-of-a-bitch was, he had some nerve taking that particular name. After a long pause, the scratchy voice piped up asking if Stewie was still there.

"Send him up." He replied curtly, smoothing back his tawny brown hair.

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_Ah, and another chapter comes to an end. More up soon! Hopefully I'll be able to get some art up as well. :) _

_Also, thanks to **Haylias **for the constant positive feedback! Much appreciated.  
_

_- Mr. Samsa_


	5. Man Behind the Curtain

_Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've been slammed with work along with a bit of traveling.  
But anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter. It's cliché, sure... but whatever. :)_

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Chapter 4 - Man Behind the Curtain

Brian tried to control the lump that was arising in his throat. He was nervous as all hell. What if Stewie didn't believe him? What if it was a completely different Stuart G. Griffin all together? There was no more time to think as the elevator doors opened, Brian's ears popped, and he was being forced down a long, cold, dimly lit hallway. His and his escort's footsteps echoed ominously as they approached the set of double doors that grew steadily more life-sized as they moved onward. Brian gulped one last time before the escort knocked, opened the door, shoved Brian inside, announced his arrival, and promptly left.

The door slammed behind Brian, causing his heart to race even more. The room that he had just been thrust into was large and horribly under-furbished. It contained nothing more than two grey suede chairs that were situated in front of a large oak desk and an awkward cactus off to one corner. Brian's eyes landed on a tall, thin man who was looking out the large window that made up the opposite wall. He stood very erect with his hands crossed behind his back. Brian took a deep breath.

"St—" he began, unable to finish as the man spun around.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" he shouted, causing Brian to take a step backwards. This was definitely Stewie. "Barging into _MY _office claiming to be someone I've known to be _dead_ for a _very long time_! You have some nerve, let me tell you that much. I ought to have never even accepted to let you come up. I ought to have you thrown out right away for- for- for simply stinking up my workspace. If it wasn't for of my sheer curiosity… My God, look at you! You're practically a bum! Now tell me, quick, what it is you're trying to get out of me before I have you vacated from the premises. And it better be good." He finished, slamming his hands on his desk only to render Brian even more speechless.

He wanted to speak. He wanted to tell Stewie everything and anything that would make him understand that it was really his old friend. At the moment, however, all he could do was take in the fact that he was staring at a twenty-three year old Stewie. He had the same sort of facial expressions though his face had thinned out immensely, almost as if he was underfed. Everything about him seemed to echo long, thin, and sickly. His eyes were a dark brown that seemed to tear through Brian like a wet tissue, his hair a similar color to Peter's though taking on some more orange highlights from his mother.

The prolonged silence must have caused Stewie to become impatient. He promptly pressed the button for the intercom.

"Cheryl, please send up two guards." He seemed to coo threateningly.

"Stewie, wait." Brian finally seemed to muster. At the sound of his voice, Stewie seemed to go rigid, his facial expression changing from snide to a frightened disbelief.

"_Two guards are on their way, Mr. Griffin._" His secretary chirped back. "_Mr. Griffin?_"

"Have them on standby." He commanded, narrowing his eyes, beginning to walk around the desk as he received affirmation from the nasally woman.

Stewie walked over to Brian and circled him several times, causing him to realize that Stewie actually wasn't very tall at all, he just gave off such an intimidating air.

"Speak." He said finally.

"Woof." Brian replied, monotone. Stewie jumped back, his eyes wide with a furrowed brow and his lips drawn into a thin line.

"What are you trying to play?" he asked, obviously flustered. Brian sighed.

"I'm not trying to play at anything, I'm just really confused as to why I'm here, how I'm here, and… a bunch of other stuff that evades me." Brian began to explain, trying not to smile at Stewie's growing discomfort. "I needed to find a familiar face if I wanted to maintain any sort of sanity." He finished. "Although to tell you the truth, your face is far from what I remember." He added with a coy smile.

Stewie blinked. "This is some sort of sick joke." He said finally. "And you, are a sick man!" he shouted, pointing a finger accusingly.

"Stewie! Come on!" Brian begged, ironically enough. "Are you seriously going to make me rattle off old family secrets that only I would know? Because that's just stupid… and… and."

"Enough! You shall explain nothing!" Stewie exclaimed. "For I shant believe a word of it!" he concluded turning back around. Brian stepped forward, panicking slightly.

"Uhh… uh… your mother's name is Lois! I am… uh… was obsessed with her!"

"Nope. Everyone knew that." Stewie replied, his finger hovering over the call button on the phone threateningly.

"Oh come on, it wasn't that obvious." Brian protested.

"It totally was." Stewie retorted with a smirk.

"Hey, shut up, she's an attractive, intelligent woman. Who wouldn't want to… uh… show her a night on the town."

"I'm sure you would think differently if you saw he today… BUT that's not the point! Look what you've done! Sent me off on a tangent, having a conversation with you like you were… were…" Stewie looked almost as if he was going to cry. Brian sighed.

"You had a gay teddy bear named Rupert." Brian droned. Stewie's brow furrowed, the corner of his lip twitched almost like he wanted to smile.

"And once you dragged me across the whole goddamn country to get him back." He continued. There was a pregnant silence.

"Well, you wouldn't have had to _do_ that if you hadn't sold him in the first place." Stewie retorted. Brian beamed.

Trying to suppress a smile, Stewie walked calmly over to face Brian. He smelled of expensive cologne causing Brian to question the state of himself once again.

"Why the hell are you dressed like a hobo?" Stewie asked, reaching up to inspect the worn leather jacket.

"I thought your first question would be more or less 'why the hell aren't you a dog' or 'why the hell aren't you dead'?" Brian retorted, feeling light headed and breathless suddenly. Was this actually happening?

"Well I pretty much assumed those were already on the table for discussion." Stewie replied promptly with a thin smile. "And I was totally just fucking with you back there, man. I knew it was you all along." He added quickly.

"Yeah right. I didn't even know it was me until the second day."

Stewie now began inspecting the rest of Brian, sliding his hands underneath his jacket and across his chest in some sort of child-like fascination.

"Uh…" Brian shifted uncomfortably under the close contact.

"Oh Brian! It is you! Homophobia and all!" Stewie exclaimed, encircling Brian's waist with his thin arms.

"I'm not homophobic!" Brian whined before hugging Stewie back. "Ah, kid, it's great to see you. Although to tell you the truth, it feels like I just saw you yesterday… only you were a lot younger." He added as an afterthought, ruffling Stewie's hair a bit.

"Really? How so? I mean… how did all this happen? Did you just wake up as a human?" Stewie asked curiously, his old naivety starting to show through the cold facade he had been putting on earlier. His hands still clutched the tail ends of Brian's coat as if not wanting to let go.

"Honestly… yeah. I woke up in an ally somewhere with these clothes and a random wallet full of money."

"So what did you do?"

"I went and bought some booze."

There was a short pause before Stewie burst into his characteristic high-pitched cackle-for-a-laugh. No sooner had he begun, the guards outside the door burst in, aiming guns directly at Brian who spun around, his hands flying up into the air.

"Freeze!" one of them yelled.

"What the HELL do you think you're doing!?" Stewie roared, pushing past Brian and marching towards the guards, who lowered their guns immediately.

"Sorry, Mr. Griffin, we heard a strange sound." The replied dumbly.

"That's called laughter you imbeciles! Now get out!" he commanded, pointing at the door.

"Please forgive us, Sir." They pleaded as they backed out. "We've simply never heard you laugh before."

The doors were shut, and Stewie turned around once again to face a terrified Brian.

"They've…never heard you laugh?" Brian asked, amused with a hint of curiosity.

"Not much use for such a thing now-a-days." Stewie babbled, "But moving on. What time is it? Almost lunch? We'll go to lunch, then. But God, first you need some new clothes. Does that sound good? We can catch up… well… you can catch up." Brian barely had time to nod before Stewie had called to have a suit ordered.

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_I reiderate again, thank you for all the reviews! I really appreciate it. _

_G Samsa  
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	6. Small Talk of Sorts

_I'd like to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews! This has been so fun so far. I'm enjoying myself far more than usual.  
I know updates are slow, but it's my senior year and I have a ton of homework with several AP classes and such along with college applications. Thank you guys for sticking with me!  
This chapter is a little angsty at one part, and I apologize for that._ (I abhor the overuse of angst.) But other than that, it was a fun chapter to write, and I think you guys will enjoy the bit of fluff thrown in at the last second. :)

_Gregor_

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**Chapter 5 - Small Talk of Sorts**

Brian looked like a million dollars. Though he still felt a little grungy from the previous night of street sleeping, he was actually able to clean up quite nicely. Stewie had ordered him a rather dashing dark grey suit with a white collared shirt and red tie. (Oddly appropriate).

"Do you just kind of have these things on hand?" Brian asked, adjusting his tie as the elevator plummeted downwards, leaving Brian's stomach still hovering on the top floor.

"You never know when the occasion might arise that one needs an emergency suit." Stewie replied silkily with a smirk. Brian smiled contently, watching the numbers decrease as they continued to fall.

As they finally reached the bottom, Brian regained his stomach and pushed his hair out of face. Looking over at Stewie, he was taken aback at how stern and businesslike his appearance had suddenly become. His whole persona seemed to have shifted just in time for the elevator doors to open.

"Good afternoon Mr. Griffin. Is there anything we can do for you while you're at lunch?" A man asked, bowing slightly as we walked by.

"I want a full report from the meeting with Stark Industries on my desk, read and proofed by the time I return, which should be around 12:30. I'll also need to schedule a short meeting to debrief the latest shipment of outer shell parts. I want to know exactly what we have and how much of it we want to keep. One more thing, the blueprints for the latest model of Babble should be either on my desk or in Cheryl's mailbox. Have the team look them over and make sure I didn't miss any mistakes."

The rapidity of the orders left Brian feeling as though he was moving in slow motion. He popped his neck and coughed, as they continued to stride on.

"Will that be all, Mr. Griffin?" The man asked, furiously scribbling on a note pad. Stewie stopped suddenly, causing Brian and the other man to take a few steps before realizing Stewie was no longer with them. Leaning in close and speaking in a hushed voice, Stewie told the man something Brian couldn't really hear that involved canceling appointments for the evening. The man looked slightly abashed, shook his head furiously, and scurried off.

"You'll have to forgive me for that." Stewie said, turning to Brian. "These people are either buzzards or sheep. They're always circling me and they can't do a thing unless I tell them to." Two men opened the doors for them as they walked out into the bright sun of midday. The wind was cold and the sky was cloudless above the bustling city. Brian took a deep breath, allowing the uncomfortably cold air to fill his lungs, reveling in the sensation.

"If you'll do me a favor and remind me when we get back to call Lois, I'd like to tell her that we're... coming home for Christmas." Stewie seemed to let the last part of the sentence drip reluctantly from his lips.

"Lois?" Brian asked, his voice sounding a little too eager, for Stewie's eyes flashed dangerously before he regained his cool.

"Yes, yes… and won't she be surprised when she gets a load of you." He spat bitterly, a smile curling at the side of his mouth. Brian gulped.

There was a small black car waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the building. Once again, a man in a suit and hat held the door open for them. The car sped away quickly and quietly.

"We're going to my usual lunch restaurant." Stewie explained, as he slowly rolled up the window between the Driver and the back of the car. Once it was closed, Stewie collapsed on the seat.

"God it's hard keeping up appearances at this place." He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, I kind of get that impression." Brian scoffed sarcastically. "Since you've been playing Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde all morning." He mused, crossing his legs as he leaned against the car door. Stewie rolled his eyes.

"Yes, yes, well I vowed at the start of my career that my employees would never see more than one side of me."

"Don't you think that there are better conclusions than that?" Brian asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I see, Brian, my multi-million international corporation not as good as your multi-million international corporation? Huh? You have a bunch of wisely developed tips you can share because you run your multi-million international corporation much better than I run my _multi-million international corporation_?" Stewie asked condescendingly, his head tilted to one side as his eyes stayed locked with Brian. Brian blinked, trying hard to stop himself from laughing.

"Yeah… I didn't think so. _Stupid dog._" Stewie added, under his breath. That did it. Brian burst into laughter, practically wiping tears from his eyes.

"Oh God, is it good to be back." He exclaimed, catching a smile from Stewie out of the corner of his eyes. Closing his eyes and leaning his head back, Brian felt Stewie's eyes remain on him for a minute before he shifted, sighed, and turned to look out the tinted window.

Brian felt himself drifting slightly, the sounds of the street and the car fading in and out. He jumped as he felt Stewie put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty." Stewie said in a monotone voice before opening the door (or the driver opening it for him) and getting out. The restaurant turned out to be a small corner café with warm, yellow walls and quaint decor.

"They have fantastic salads!" Stewie exclaimed excitedly as they passed through the door and moved towards the back.

"Why don't we sit near the front window?" Brian asked.

"Eh, there'll be a draft from the door." Stewie retorted.

"But natural lighting is best for your eyes."

"No such thin as natural lighting in New York City."

Brian sighed, realizing that Stewie was probably used to getting what he wanted and settled for a small table near the back wall.

After a lunch filled with casual soups, salads, and small talk, Brian wiped his mouth and decided he wanted to know everything he had missed.

"I mean, God, you're still so young and you've come so far!" Brian exclaimed. You've changed so much, but…" Brian stopped. "How was high school?" He asked, needing some place to start. Stewie's eye twitched, the air around them seeming to become colder suddenly.

"A living hell for a skinny little faggot like me." Stewie snarled under his breath. Brian's eyes widened at Stewie's harsh words. He had never actually heard him refer to himself as a "faggot" before. He wanted to say something, but couldn't really find the breath to, feeling extremely guilty for bringing up the subject in the first place.

"God, if you could have picked a time to come back that would have been the best." He continued, resting his elbows on the table. "I was getting beat up so much I was afraid of my own shadow." He continued, resting the side of his head on his hand. "To this day I still don't understand why they did half the things they did to me, but no one would believe me when I told them. It was probably because I was so much younger than everyone else." His voice had become somber, as his eyes had glazed over slightly.

Brian continued to sit awkwardly thinking of ways to change the subject until Stewie began to continue, then the thought hit him: Stewie's probably never been asked how he felt or how he was treated during his teenage years. Brian decided to just let him talk, leaning on the table and looking intently at the man across from him. Stewie didn't really meet his eyes for the majority of the conversation, save for every once in a while. There was something behind them that echoed a deep-rooted pain with a hint of relief. Stewie continued to talk his way through high school and onto college, telling Brian about the horrible since of isolation and self-loathing he felt all through his years there. He told him about his love for the piano, and that he needed to play for him eventually. He raved about Stravinsky's Rite of Spring for a good ten minutes before moving on. He told him about the nights in the library; he would hide under desks when the security guards came to lock up, then spend hours and hours walking up and down the rows, burring himself in books until deep into the night. He talked about his favorite books: Candide, Metamorphosis, Death of Ivan Illych, The Plague, all seeming oddly fitting to Stewie's condition at the time

Through Brian's intense listening, he did happen to notice that Stewie never mentioned one thing: whether or not he was gay. This had always been a question that nagged Brian in the back of his mind ever since their early days. He didn't want to ask, though. He felt it would be far too awkward for a reason he couldn't really place. _Best leave it for another day._ Brian thought to himself as Stewie fell quiet.

"Stewie, I…" Brian began, Stewie's eyes trailing up to meet with his. "I wish I could have been there for you." He said, reaching a hand across the table and laying it over Stewie's. Brian felt his eyebrows rise at Stewie's complexion, which turned slightly pink as he looked down at their hands. Brian pulled away quickly as they both coughed awkwardly.

After paying, they both walked back out to the car, hurriedly getting in as they had taken a little more time than estimated. The car ride was silent for the first five minutes as they both twiddled their thumbs in awkward anticipation of who would be the first to speak again. Finally, Stewie scooted over to Brian, laying a head on his shoulder. Brian sighed sadly, wrapping his arm tightly around Stewie's upper body.

"Well, I'm glad you're here now at least." Stewie said, his voice completely devoid of emotion. Brain bit his lip nervously before leaning back against Stewie, taking in the scent of his hair.

"Sorry I couldn't have had more of a say in the matter." He spoke against Stewie's head, eyeing his hand that crept up the collar of Brian's blazer, grasping it as though he would never let go.

There was nothing else said during the remainder of the ride.

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_The next update should be expected within the week! Please review so I know you're reading. :) I don't even care if it says "update now you bitch!" I'd simply like to hear from you._

_Yes, I made an Iron Man reference. I'm not a big Marvel fan, but I like to generally stick little bits of cross-overs into my stories. Hope they're not obnoxious...  
_

_And hopefully my obsession with Kafka won't carry over into my fanfictions too much! ;)  
_

_Gregor  
_


	7. The Pictures

_Well, I was so inspired after the last entree, that I stayed up late last night (unintentionally) finishing chapter 6!_  
This one's all emotional and stuff, just bringing some more dimensions of the story into play. Hope it's not too annoying.  
_Thanks for sticking with me so far! This has been a blast! I have some great directions planned out for this story. Hope I can get there!_

_Gregor_

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Chapter 6 - The Pictures**

After pulling up in front of the ominous skyscraper, Stewie practically jumped out of the car, and jogged up the stairs, leaving Brian in the dust. The man climbed out of the car, which was a little too low to the ground, and groaned at the amount of stairs that lay before him. Stewie had already reached the top and was being swarmed by important looking men and women in suits. Brian sighed as he watched Stewie walk away. Putting his hands in his pockets, everything seemed to go silent around him.

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?" the driver asked him, closing the car door loudly.

"Ah, nothing that I can think of at the moment, thank you." Brian replied politely. The driver nodded, returned to the car, and drove away.

Brian found himself out of breath as he reached the top of the stairs. Slightly disconcerted at his condition, he strode quickly through the lobby and towards the elevator. He happened to catch the eye of the man who had interrogated him earlier this morning. He simply nodded to Brian as he passed, picking up a phone that began to ring. _Griffin Industries, how may I help you?_ The elevator doors closed.

At the top once again, Brian yawned to pop his ears as he strode down the dark hallway to Stewie's office. Pushing the doors open, he realized Stewie wasn't in there.

"Huh…" Brian said out loud, continuing in as he closed the door behind him. The office was quiet and moderately warm. The two walls of large windows gave the room a blue-ish tint. Standing awkwardly in the middle for a moment, Brian couldn't help but let his curiosity get the best of him.

He slowly wandered over to Stewie's desk, letting his new, sensitive human fingertips brush against the smooth oak finish of the top. Sitting down cautiously behind the desk, he eased himself into the large, black leather office chair, slowly opening the top right-hand drawer. After exploring three drawers, Brian only came across paperwork, blueprints, a box of tissues, and more paperwork. It wasn't until he came to the last bottom drawer on the left-hand side that he found something of interest. Pictures.

The first one was a company picture. It appeared to be the majority of the staff, posing on the stairs in front of the building he was currently in. Stewie was right in the front and center, unsmiling and cold. The second picture is when Brian really began to feel nervous, as he quickly looked up to make sure no one was around. It was Stewie and another man of whom Brian had never seen. They were both dressed in tuxedos and held glasses of wine. The other man looked significantly older than Stewie though he was extremely handsome, possibly in his early forties. He had his arm around Stewie's waist, grabbing onto the fabric of his coat slightly. His face was pressed up against the side of Stewie's with a smile, as if he was telling him a secret the person behind the camera would never know. What really made Brian's heart begin to pound was the look of pure happiness that was spread across Stewie's face. He was practically glowing. Brian swallowed dryly and moved on.

The next picture caused Brian's heart to beat fast again, but for a different reason. It was a family picture, and old family picture. Brian was in it. Brian remembered it. It was a very posed family picture: they were all gathered around the living room couch. Meg and Chris were standing in the back as Peter and Lois sat on the couch. Stewie sat on the floor with his arm around Brian, smiling a little. He had to be about five or six. Brian remembered when Stewie came to him to talk about how he had finally decided not to kill Lois. It was such a relief. From then on out, Stewie became significantly happier. Not wanting to see the rest of the pictures, Brian quickly put them back and leaned back into the leather chair. It complied, reclining with him as he propped his feet on the desk.

He became pensive, thinking back to the last thing her remembered: _laying on the living room floor with Stewie gently running a hand down his back. It was quiet other than the ticking of the living room clock, which seemed to be ticking slower and slower with each passing second. Stewie pulled Brian onto his lap, caressing his head as they both leaned back against the foot of the couch._

"_You are not alone." Stewie said quietly, softly, his voice holding all the sadness of the world. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." He continued._

"_It's not like it would matter, kid." Brian breathed, feeling his legs become heavy as gravity drove him down into the ground. "But I … appreciate it." He managed to get out. He felt wetness on the top of his head as Stewie sniffed quietly._

"_Don't cry…" Brian said._

"_Don't leave me and I won't!" Stewie huffed, his tone sporadic and a little louder than he could control at the moment. _

"_I'm not afraid." Brian whispered, his eyelids closing as he felt his lungs become too tired to expand anymore.  
"Brian, I lo-"_

"Oh I see." Came a voice from across the room. Brian was snapped out of his flashback only to see current day Stewie standing at the door. "I assume you think you own the place, now? I let you in and look what you do, territorial pissing!" He shouted, not even attempting to hide his smile.

"Damn straight, now get me some booze." Brian said, waving a finger in the air. Stewie grinned and bowed, walking over to the wall adjacent to the door. After pressing a few buttons on the wall panel, a small bar spun out from inside the wall. Brain cursed loudly in amazement while Stewie only grinned.

Hurrying over to the trap-door wall-bar, Brian would have been wagging his tail, if he had one.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed, sitting down on one of the two benches as Stewie fixed him a martini. "Why the hell would you have this in your office!?" he asked, slightly amused yet way too euphoric to care.

"I work late nights, Brian. _Very_ late nights." Stewie replied silkily, adding the final touch of an olive to Brian's drink. He watched him take his first, gleeful sip before fixing one of his own.

A few moments passed as they talked about liquor, then Stewie's eyes wandered over to his desk only to see one of his drawers open. He stopped mid sip, his eyes narrowing. Setting his drink down, he began to walk across the room. Brian's eyes followed him, a sudden pang of guilt and regret kicking him in the gut.

"Stewie…"

"You were going through my things!" Stewie yelled accusingly, slamming the drawer closed with his foot. "Who the hell do you think you are?!" he continued to yell.

"I'm your friend and I'm just trying to fill in pieced of the puzzle!" Brian yelled back, turning around to face Stewie who's face had turned slightly pink.

"That gives you no right to plunder and pillage wherever you goddamn well please!" he retorted, waving an arm about. "I aught to… to…to"

"Who's the man?" Brian asked, taking another sip from his martini. Stewie went completely red.

"None of you _damn_ business!" he roared, striding towards Brian, stopping a foot away from his face, simply fuming in front of him. Brian did not let his physical appearance show how intimidated he was.

"What are you going to do now?" Brian asked smoothly.

"I'm going to piss and moan!" Stewie bellowed, turning away and stomping about the office.

"Come on Stewie! Can't we talk about this? I'm your friend. You're my friend. How much more can I judge you?" Brian cooed, still perched on the bar seat.

"There were some things I just didn't want you to know!" Stewie replied from across the room, still pacing about.

"What? That you're gay? Come on, I knew that a long…"

"It doesn't matter! I was a child back then, things could have changed! I didn't know I'd have to be like this for the rest of my life!" he yelled, his voice beginning to weaken. He had stopped pacing. He simply stood in the middle of the room holding himself and looking at the floor.

The emotion in his voice made Brian stop and think. _Does he really mean…?_

"Stewie… are you unhappy… with…?" Brian couldn't say it.

"What? What?!" he spat, looking up at Brian, his brow furrowed in disgust. "Am I unhappy with being a skinny little fudge-packing, cock-sucking faggot?! _No, _of _ course_ not! Why would anyone _even_ _think_ to be ashamed of such a complete and utter humiliating fuck-up on God's behalf?!" Stewie continued to yell. "Why would ANYONE possibly even QUESTION why the universe could be so _sick and twisted_ as to curse them for the rest of their miserable life to be an outcast on the fringe of society!?" Stewie continued, pent up rage exploding out of his chest.

His voice echoed through the room for a split second after he had stopped. He stood there, breathless, his hair falling into his eyes as he continued to burn holes into Brian. Brian got up slowly and walked over to him. He opened his arms, Stewie compliantly falling into them as they embraced. Stewie shook slightly.

"Listen…" Brian began. "I'm really sorry. I… I really had no idea…"

"It's fine." Came Stewie's muffled voice from against Brian's blazer. "I'm… not blaming anyone but myself I suppose." He continued, still reusing to raise his head. Brian only held him tighter, moving a hand up to rub his back.

After a moment of standing in silence, simply holding each other as they breathed, Stewie turned his head to rest against Brian's shoulder. Brian felt his warm breath against his neck, causing his hair to stand on end. He wasn't sure what happened next, but he definitely felt Stewie's lips on his neck for a split second before he pulled away. His stomach did a sort of summersault that took him completely by surprise.

"I have a meeting to attend. It shouldn't take to long. Help yourself to the bar and the computer. We can talk some more later tonight, maybe." Stewie said emotionlessly as he walked away, his face flushed.

"Don't forget to call Lois later." Brian said, as Stewie reached for the door. He froze, gripping the door handle tightly.

"Thanks." He sad bitterly, before exiting, leaving Brian, once again, alone in the quiet room, even more confused than he was earlier this morning.

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_**Note: **I'm not bashing gay people at all in Stewie's speech... I'm simply echoing some of the feelings felt by homosexuals (including some close friends of mine) when they have been raised to hate what they stand for. _

_Not saying that Lois and Peter have raised Stewie to hate himself for being gay, quite the opposite really... but not everyone thinks the same way his family does. _

_So ends another chapter! This one was more of a "details" chapter. Nothing really big happened other than some more ranting and anger on Stewie's behalf. I hope his moodswings are at least fitting into those of the show. The next few chapters should move along the time line a bit. _

_Thanks so much to my lovely reviewers! Especially **Haylias **and **DarkAngel10003** who have been so adiment with their reviews. :) I appreciate you guys. _

_Gregor  
_


	8. A Long Day's End

_Sorry for the long delay everyone! I got caught up re-reading an old fanfiction on my favorites list that just so happened to be 56 chapters long. Haha! It took a little longer than expected. I barely got my homework done these past few day I was so engrossed._

_Hopefully things can return to normal (although I intend to begin the sequel soon)._

_Anyhoo, here's chapter 7! (or 8... according to this thing) Sorry it's so short. Again, plot-gathering chapter.  
I've realized I've been doing this story mostly from Brian's POV, so I'm going to try and switch that up a bit from now on. Sorry to all you Stewie-lovers out there, I've been neglecting his feelings. :(_

_Enjoy!_

_Gregor_

_-----------------------------------------------_

_**Chapter 7 - A Long Day's End**_

The day ended slowly. Brian literally counted the seconds up till seven o'clock. His stomach was protesting loudly by the time Stewie put down his pen, shut down his computer, and began to gather his things.

"Would you like to go out to eat or would you rather just go back to my place." Stewie asked, causing Brian to chuckle.

"It's weird to think you have your own 'place'." He said amused. Stewie sighed, grabbing his keys off this desk and striding over to the door.

"I guess that sort of goes along with the whole 'owning a business' and 'having a life' sort of thing." He said, smirking as he pressed the keypad that controlled the lights. The room gently faded black as they left.

Since it was late in the year, the sky had started to get dark around five thirty, which made it feel even later than it actually was. Brian was surprised to see that Stewie actually drove himself home.

"I expected you to have a guy for this." Brian poked.

"Hahaha… very funny. Now get in you flea-bitten mutt." Stewie jeered.

"Y'know, I'm not a dog anymore. You're going to have to come up with some better insults. Or at least some more relevant ones." Brian pointed out as he quickly cranked up the heat on his side of the car. He could see his breath hovering in front of him.

"Oh but I think that makes them just as funny and condescending!" Stewie retorted, gliding out of the company's parking garage.

The ride to Stewie's flat was a lot shorter than Brian had anticipated. He lived barely four blocks away.

"Why don't you just walk to work and save gas?" Brian asked.

"God, haven't you realized that you're in the 'future' yet?" Stewie asked derisively. "We ran out of oil when I was seventeen. You should have seen the panic people were thrown into. But out of chaos comes art, so of course the electric car thrived." He continued to explain. It was then that Brian noticed how quiet all of the cars had been. Even the noises of the street were limited to the sound of wheels and horns, no loud motors. Brian laughed gleefully.

"Damn hippy." Stewie said with a smirk.

They parked in a gated parking garage, which was heated and dehumidified for the comfort of the resident's cars. After plugging his car up to an outlet, Stewie led Brian over to the elevator, which they rode all the way to the top of the building.

"You really like being on top." Brian said unthinkingly, only to look over and see Stewie completely red and appearing as though he could easily rip Brian's throat out.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Brian pleaded, backing away. "I just meant…" Brian slapped a hand to his face only to hear Stewie chuckle a little.

"No, Brian, I simply require a good view." He retorted, his face still flushed as they stepped out of the elevator into a warm hallway.

Stewie's penthouse flat was extravagant, to say the least. He had masterfully decorated every single room to resonate sophistication and elegance. Brain couldn't help but take off his shoes as soon at they entered. He hung his grey blazer on the coat rack that stood by the door and immediately un-tucked his shirt.

"Stewie, this is magnificent." Brian said, thoroughly impressed. Stewie stood proudly in the threshold removing his own coat as well.

"I must say, I do take a fair amount of pride in my home." He sighed, smiling contently. "Now, you become acquainted with everything while I conjure up something to eat. Make yourself at home, because that's exactly what this shall be for a while." He added with a smile, catching Brian's eye. He turned away quickly towards the kitchen, a hand over his chest as he attempted to stop his heart from beating so loudly. _You're being ridiculous, Stewie. Stop acting like a goddamn schoolboy around him._

Brian walked from room to room. Half the floor belonged to Stewie, which was a significant amount of space. The layout included a small dining room upon entry to the house, the kitchen being off to the right through a set of swinging doors, and the living room off to the left. Beyond the living room, on the left wall, was a hallway that led to a small guest room with a personal bathroom, a master bath, a linen closet, and Stewie's bedroom. Brian felt nervous as he cracked the door open and looked in. It was simply decorated: golden yellow walls with black lacquered furniture. Very classy. The bed was huge and perfectly made. Brian again began to feel uneasy and slowly closed the door and padded back down the hallway inspecting the other rooms.

As he reentered the living room, he fell down onto the large black, leather sofa and let his eyes drift shut. Delicious smells came wafting over from the kitchen as Stewie hummed a little ditty as he continued to cook, the sleeved of his collared shirt hastily rolled up. His pants turned out to be a little too long for him when he didn't have shoes on and they dragged along the floor, unnoticed or insignificant to Stewie. He continued to hum happily.

The smells soon became too intoxicating for Brian to stand it any longer. He rolled off the couch lazily and hobbled to the kitchen.

"What are you cooking in here?" he asked, his voice becoming heavy with sleep.

"Stir fry!" Stewie piped cheerfully. Brian looked him up and down before bursting out into laughter. Stewie had dawned a frilly apron which had "kiss the cook" printed oh so generically at the top. He flushed as Brian continued to chuckle, falling against the doorframe.

"You…you looked like a domesticated house wife." He managed to get out.

"I think it's flattering." Stewie retorted, striking a small pose before he continued to poke at the vegetables he was frying with a spatula. Brian smiled sheepishly as he still felt like laughing. After a minute of searching, he found he had no logical explanation for his giddiness.

Having nothing else to do after being denied to help by Stewie, Brian meandered over to the smaller kitchen table that sat in the corner. He sat there quietly and contently, trying to stave off his hunger by starting off into space, only to find his eyes kept trailing back to Stewie. It was still amazing to see his comrade of so many years as a full-grown adult. Not only that, but he was so powerful and so successful. Then Brian's mind wandered back to earlier today with Stewie's sporadic outbursts. Brian heaved a heavy sigh, wondering if Stewie actually _was_ happy, even with all of his success. Being a weapon designer and manufacturer was bound to have its ups and downs, both physically and mentally.

"All right, all right. Be patient. I'm almost done." Stewie replied to Brian's sigh.

"Oh no… you think that sigh was…? No! No, take your time, please!" Brian replied a little too eagerly, causing Stewie to turn around and give him a bemused glance. _What the hell, Brian? Stop acting like a douche on a date._ Brian scolded himself.

Soon enough, dinner was on the table and being quickly eaten by the two. Neither realized exactly how hungry they were until they were both able to sit down with a good plate of food in front of them.

"My God, Stewie, this is amazing!" Brian exclaimed with a full mouth.

"Chew before you speak. And it's nothing, really… I haven't had an excuse to cook for anyone in _ages_." Stewie exaggerated, still obviously flattered at the complement. Brian swallowed hastily before continuing.

"So what is the outlook for the rest of the week?" he asked quickly before stuffing his mouth once again with vegetables and rice.

"Well," Stewie began, taking much smaller, more elegant bites so that his words were clear. "I was thinking that you could pretty much stay at the apartment most of the time, catch up on some sleep, watch some TV and catch up on the horrible current." He suggested. "Since it's such a short drive, I could come home to have lunch with you during the day."

"Or I could walk to have lunch with you." Brian volunteered. Stewie's cheeks turned rosy at Brian's fervor.  
"Or I suppose you could do that." He replied gauchely, an awkward pause ensuing as they both ate a little.

"I was just thinking I'd get a little bit of cabin fever if you came here every day." Brian finally explained, as though he was thinking up an excuse during their silence.  
"Oh yes, completely understandable." Stewie replied, taking a sip of his drink.

Dinner ended with a fair amount of small talk about how Stewie had learned to cook so well and other such things. After all the dishes had been cleaned and put away, the two were so tired that they barely had enough effort to take off their clothes to put on sleep wear.

"Is every day like this for you?" Brian asked as Stewie searched through his drawers for a spare set of pajamas for Brian to borrow.

"It fluctuates from day-to-day, actually." Came the reply from deep within a drawer. "Some days I'm simply on the computer most of the time, barking orders through e-mails and scheduling things for the future. Other days they work me like a dog…." Stewie paused, looking back at Brian. "Well, you understand."

"Yeah." Brian replied. "Although I never quite understood that metaphor."

"That's because you never worked a day in your life, you lazy, incompetent mutt." Stewie grumbled with a smile. After giving Brian an old t-shirt and sleep pants, they bid each other a good evening before each sauntering off to their lonely, respective sleeping quarters, unaware that they were on the other's mind.

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_Hopefully that was enough fluff to satisfy you until the next chapter. [vomits a little] :)  
_

_Gregor  
_


	9. Just a Regular Don Juan

_Sorry for the long hiatus of sorts. I had a lot of work to do for school and such.  
The updates will probably be more and more spread out from here on out. _

_But none the less, here's chapter 8! Hopefully things are progressing quickly, but not too quickly.  
I've been trying to keep the details of the difference between Brian and Stewie's speach patterns in tact.  
_

_Thanks agan for all the wonerful reviews I've been getting! You guys are awesome!!_

_Gregor  
_

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**Chapter 8 - Just a Regular Don Juan**

Brian woke with a start, his jaw and forehead aching, small beads of sweat forming on his brow. For a moment, he had no idea where he was until his surroundings began to slowly form around him. _Stewie… _He thought to himself, recalling the incidents of the day before. It felt like it had been several days, what with all that had happened. Yawning widely to stretch out his jaw, which had been tightly clenched through the night, he shoved the heavy covers of the bed aside. The icy cold floor felt burning hot against his warm feet. He hissed in protest before getting up and walking over to the window. As soon as the blinds were lifted, Brian was faced with a beautiful cityscape at sunrise. The buildings practically sparkled in the light of the upcoming sun, the cloudless sky providing a pale blue backdrop for the stoic edifices. He had never been left so breathless before a city. Breathing deeply, he turned to walk back to the bed, crawling under the covers to sleep for a while longer.

Stewie hastily draped his deep red tie around his neck, shirt collar popped, as he shoved a stack of papers into his seemingly too small briefcase. _Damn, damn, damn…_ he chanted internally. He would really have to remember to wake up earlier if he wanted to enjoy the morning at all. After brushing his teeth and slicking his hair back out of his face, he finally felt prepared to leave. As he walked down the hall, he took a step back as he passed the guest room where Brian slept. Quietly wrapping his hands around the doorknob, he slowly opened the door. A single beam of light shone in from the hallway, bathing Brian's crumpled, sleeping form. His white-blonde hair was strewn messily across his face, hiding his eyes. Stewie's face remained stoic as the corner of his mouth twitched. He shut the door quickly, yet quietly, before striding over to collect his things and bustle out of the apartment.

Waking up the second time was much more pleasant. Brian slowly stretched to life, making little high-pitched noises in the process. Sitting up, he proceeded to scratch all places that needed scratching before hopping promptly out of bed and heading off to complete the morning duties. Walking out of the bathroom, he continued to stretch to the sound of a toilet flushing, marveling at his height (which was still a pleasant surprise).

"Stewie?" he called out, his voice hoarse from sleep. No reply. _What time is it? _Judging from the light outside, it was probably around nine o'clock. _He's surely left for work by now._ Brian thought, feeling lonely suddenly.

Having nothing else to do, and not feeling particularly hungry, he fell down on the couch in front of the large TV, finding four different remote controllers on the coffee table.

"Damn." Brian exclaimed, picking up the first one, only to realize it controlled the sound. Three controllers later, he found the right one and proceeded to channel surf.

"Let's see what the future holds." He mused, grinning skeptically.

Fourteen news stations, five reality TV shows, and an immortal Animal Planet later, Brian decided he was bored with the future and counted down the minutes until lunch.

The remainder of the week crept by just as slowly. It was filled with microwavable breakfasts, fascinating philosophical lunch topics, and Brian attempting to break the habit of sitting at the door and whining when Stewie left in the mornings.

"The neighbors are complaining." Stewie explained over another salad lunch. "It's against the policies to keep _pets_." He informed Brian, screwing up his face to keep from laughing.

"Those bastards." Brian mumbled under his breath. "I tell you, it just takes one bad dog to ruin it for the rest of us."

"But the thing is, Brian, you're not a dog anymore. It's just not sane for a person to sir at a door and whine… though I do admit I am quite flattered." Stewie confessed, waving a hand about dramatically, rousing a smirk out of Brian.

"I'll work on it." He said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "At least it'll give me something to do." He mumbled as an afterthought, stabbing at his own plate of food.

"Well if you're bored, why didn't you just say so? It's not like I'm quarantining you to the house! God, you know how to live on your own… for the most part." Stewie exclaimed. Brian's ears perked up. "You _do _need to get out and buy yourself a decent wardrobe. We'll be going to Rhode Island next weekend and you have all of three outfits!" Stewie exclaimed as if it was a punishable crime. "You'll need to shock the family in style." He added with a sneer. Brian rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.

"I'm still worried about that." He confessed.

"Oh don't be ridiculous! It'll be fine!" Stewie assured. Brian shrugged and looked out the front window of the restaurant.

The car ride to take Brian back to the apartment was quieter that either of them felt comfortable with.

"So…" Stewie began awkwardly. "It's… y'know… I only work a five day week." He stated, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. Brian huffed, looking over at Stewie bemusedly.

"I'm just saying tonight is Friday, therefore meaning that I don't have work tomorrow, therefore implying that I can do something tonight." He continued hastily. Brian felt his stomach lurch.

"You're not exhausted? I know I'd be." Stewie shook his head, smiling widely.

"I've learned to cope!" he explained, almost too cheerful. Brian shifted.

"Well… what did you have in mind?" he asked sheepishly. "I mean, I'm not to fond of clubs or anything of the sort, as you know." He relayed. Stewie made a face.

"Oh I know that!" He exclaimed, sounding almost offended. "I was thinking more along the lines of… well… Don Giovanni is being performed down off of Tenth Avenue." He offered, a small smile forming at Brian's excited gasp.

"Could you really get tickets on such short notice!?" he asked, trying not to sound too excited.

"I'm Stewart fucking Griffin. I own this town, man." Stewie replied, a cocky smile spreading across his face. Brian laughed heartily.

Later that evening, Stewie arrived at the apartment much earlier than usual, carrying a large, clothing bag.

"Dog! I have something for you!" Stewie called, struggling with the bulky item. Brian came skittering around the corner, offering help. With much trepidation, they managed to lay it flat on the dining room table. Brian hastily tore open the bag to reveal a beautiful tuxedo, blacker than the night itself.

"Stewie! My god… this is too much." Brian exclaimed, his eyes wide as he ogled the magnificent clothes. Stewie tried to stop himself from beaming.

"Well, I figured your old one wouldn't really fit you anymore." He goaded, still grinning.

Before Brian could blink a second time, he was pushed down the hall and into his room with cheers to try it on. Once in the silence of his room, Brian had a chance to really mull things over. He laid the tux out gently over the unmade covers of his bed, gazing at it reverently as a small smile tugged at the side of his mouth. Stewie tapped his foot impatiently outside the door in the hallway, feeling more anxious than necessary for such a docile situation. His stomach flopped as the door opened as Brian stood beaming in the doorway.

"How does it look?" he asked, wiping imaginary dust off the front of the spotless coat.

"Fantastic!" Stewie piped, rushing forward eagerly to run his hands along the front of Brian's chest.

"Easy now." Brian warned, taking a faltering step backwards. "You'll wrinkle it." Stewie gave him an annoyed, yet playful look.

"Well, now that we've dealt with that, I'm going to go get ready myself, as I recommend you finish doing if we want to be on time." Stewie chided, striding off down the hall, his steps almost seeming as though he was skipping. Brian watched him before moving into the bathroom to attempt to control his white mass of hair on top of his head.

Before Brian felt he was decent enough to reappear again, he gave himself a long, hard look in the mirror. _Okay, buddy, just because Stewie's finally come out of the closet… verbally doesn't mean there's anything different between you two. You're still the friends you were way back when. So do NOT flirt with him or send mixed messages in any way._ Brian concluded.

"You dog." He added with a cheeky grin, slapping his hands on the counter before hitting the lights and strolling out. Stewie was standing in the entranceway in the dining room, fidgeting nervously with his bow tie. He wasn't nervous, of course. His eyes flitted to his skeletal hands, his fingertips rounded and worn: the mark of an avid piano player. His attention was redirected as Brian strolled out into the hallway.

"Shall we?" he asked, smiling charmingly. _Damn it, Brian, there you go already!_ Stewie let his grin waver before regaining composure and opening the door for Brian to step through.

"My God, I swear that opera become more beautiful each time I see it. And the theatre was brilliant! The resonance!" Brian rambled, almost tripping over his own feet as they left the theatre. "Zerlina has the most beautiful aria, voice of an angel, I swear!" he continued. Stewie beamed.

"Well, I'm glad I could make your third night back from the dead enjoyable." he said, running a hand through his own hair as he looked absentmindedly up at the sky. "Uh… would you like to go get something to drink or anything like that?" he asked, slightly rushed. Brian, still lost in his thoughts, nodded automatically.

"Oh yeah, I could definitely go for a drink." He replied, his brain still on autopilot.

"There's a bar just down the street, a few blocks at most…" Stewie continued as they started walking in the direction. Brian snapped out of his trance, the weight in his legs reminding him how tired he was.

"Wouldn't you keep drinks back at your place?" he asked, putting a hand on Stewie's shoulder to stop him. Stewie looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, of course, if that's what you'd prefer." He answered coolly, devoid of any readable emotion.

The apartment was cool and dark. Stewie waved a hand in front of a small sensor by the door that Brian had somehow failed to notice before. Almost all the lights in the flat turned on with a faint humming noise that followed. Neither of them said much besides Brian's yawning and Stewie's occasional jeer. Brian returned to raving about the opera, which allowed him to become sidetracked into a rant about the decline of musical theatre. Stewie simply nodded and made sounds of agreement as he fixed their drinks. Brian finally stopped long enough to realize that Stewie wasn't really listening.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, taking a coin out of his pocket and flicking it towards Stewie. It bounced off his back and clinked on the floor, earning a disapproving glare from the target.

"Nothing to bother yourself with." Stewie replied curtly.

"Come one, you've barely spoken a word since we've gotten home." Brian gently urged.

Stewie exhaled loudly, walking over to the small kitchen table with a martini in one hand and something ambiguous in the other.

"I don't really know, to tell you the truth. I've simply been thinking about the little family Christmas party that looms ever closer." He said darkly. Brian took a thoughtful sip before nodding.  
"Go on." He implored. Stewie looked up quickly before stirring his cocktail nervously.

"Are you sure you want to go?" he asked, almost choking on the question. Brian set his drink down.

"Do you not want to? I mean… you don't have to come. I don't mind going alone." Brian replied considerately. Stewie screwed up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's not what I was implying at all." He exclaimed, waving a hand towards Brian. "But just forget it."

"Will you stop being so damn cryptic?" Brian growled. "Just tell me what you want, for once."

"I would like some new dress socks." Stewie replied, downing his drink, hissing as he finished swallowing. Brian blinked. Stewie stared, completely impassive.

"Fine, have it your way." Brian sighed, finishing his martini before getting up to take it to the sink.

"I just wanted to know if you'd rather… spend Christmas here." Stewie squeezed out, flinching slightly. Brian heaved a sigh, his back to Stewie.

"Don't be selfish." He replied, unable to see Stewie slap a hand against his forehead. "Besides, how long has it been since you've seen your mother?"

"Not long enough…" Stewie grumbled, causing a chuckle to arise out of Brian. He turned and walked back towards Stewie, reaching out and ruffling his hair.

"Goodnight Stewie." He said simply, turning and walking out of the kitchen. Stewie watched him go, waiting a beat before he let his head fall on the table with a loud thump. _Well there's a good night ruined. _He whined internally. _I was at least hoping to get him wasted... _

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_-Don Giovanni is a fantastically hilarious opera that my voice teacher had the pleasure of being Zerlina. She had an amazng voice. It's mostly about a womanizer by the name of Don Giovanni (of course). Wkipedia it! _

_Thanks again to my wonderful readers!_

_Gregor  
_


	10. Chapter 9

_Hello everyone! Sorry for the prolonged wait. Exams are coming up.... this Monday. So I'm a little preoccupied. I simply HAD to get this chapter off my chest, though. It had been sitting in the back of my mind for a few weeks now._

_Thanks eternally for the continued support! :) I hope to get some writing done over Christmas break. (Which starts this Wednesday!!)_

_Mr. Gregor_

_---------------------------------------  
_

Brian had a seriously hard time getting out of bed the next morning. His eyes seemed as though they simply did not want to open. No matter how much he yawned and stretched, he simply could not do anything other than lay there contently, surrounded by the soft, down comforter. He flopped over onto his side, glancing a bleary eye over at the digital clock that sat by his bed. It was ten till noon. Well no wonder he had trouble getting out of bed, he had slept far too much. Brian made more stretching noises, deciding that there was really no rush.

Suddenly, Brian felt uneasy, his eyes snapping open. He sat up in bed, his head turned towards the window, as his human ears strained to hear all the sounds there were to hear. It is said that animals have a sixth sense when something bad is about to happen. Did that trait carry over into Brian's human form? Without warning, the air around Brian pulsed for an instant, as the sound of an explosion resonated through the street below. Brian leapt out of bed, skittering to the window. He pressed his face up against the cold glass, straining his eyes to see beyond the horizon of the building and down the street.

A steady cloud of smoke drifted into view from the street below. Brian took that as his cue. He tripped over his own feet, as he nervously bolted to grab his clothes. Without so much as a thought of food, he was out the door and in the elevator, plummeting downwards.

As he reached ground level, Brian was greeted with the sounds of sirens and the honking of fire engines. He could definitely smell the smoke now. It was a peculiar smell, chemical in nature, almost like plastic burning. He rocketed out of the parking garage and down the sidewalk, nearly sprinting three blocks before he slowed to a jog. When he finally reached the GIWDR building, it looked especially ominous as a cloud of smoke rose out of the staff parking garage to cover half the edifice.

Brian continued to trot, his eyes scanning the crowd that had gathered. _God damn rubber-neckers._ He cursed under his breath. Finally his eyes fell on an ambulance parked off to the side, the crew bustling about. Stewie was sitting, clearly disgruntled, on the back of the ambulance bumper. He waved a worried nurse away as she attempted to bandage a large gash he had on his head. Looking through the crowd, somehow he locked eyes with Brian, an unreadable expression washing over his face. He stood up suddenly, causing the nurse to quickly sit him back down. Brian pushed his way through the crowd, having to stop and convince the police officers that he was family, until he was finally able to make it over to Stewie.

"Wha-" Brian began, finding his throat to be very dry. He only mouthed wordlessly what would be a question. Stewie gave him a preoccupied look, a hint of annoyance as well as something else.

"Car bomb." He said simply. Brian's jaw dropped. "It's happened before." Stewie continued. "I mean, come on, I design weapons for the U.S. Government, who isn't out to get me?" he asked with a smirk. Brian clearly didn't see the humor in the situation. His eyes kept skirting over the massive gash across Stewie's forehead, trailing down from his raw, bloodied collar bone to his tattered shirt and pants.

"Why won't you let the nurse help you?" Brian asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice with anger. Stewie stared at him blankly, a look of extreme wisdom flashing across his young face.  
"I want to feel what it's like to be alive just a moment longer." He answered in a low voice, his eyes glazing over. Brian opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly. Somewhere deep inside him, he understood. He simply sat down beside Stewie on the rear bumper as the nurse came over for s third time. Stewie finally complied to let his wounds be cleaned and bandaged. As the nurse began to roughly scrub as the cuts, Stewie's scraped hand delicately curled around Brian's.

Stewie was taken to the hospital after the nurse determined that he had several broken ribs, Brian tagging helplessly along. No matter how many times he asked, he was unable to receive a straight answer as to what exactly happened. He did, however, find out that the driver of the car had been killed in the explosion and that it had been triggered by hand somewhere in the vicinity of a mile. Police were prowling the area.

Brian remained faithfully by Stewie's side well into the night, pacing the floor, wandering around, and subject to horrible hospital food. When Stewie finally convinced the hospital that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself from here on out, the were free to leave. They reluctantly allowed Brian to escort him home. The hospital was kind enough to call for a taxi.

"Did you know that homosexuality is still punishable by death in some countries now a days?" Stewie posed casually as they walked out of the hospital. Brian was taken aback by the question, feeling slightly uncomfortable.  
"Oh, uh… I figured times would have changed by now." He replied meekly, putting his hands awkwardly in his pockets. Stewie shook his head as they walked over to sit on a bench just outside of the doors.

"You know, I was scheduled to go to Fiji once. In retrospect I don't even remember why, it seems so insignificant now… but moral of the story is that they had to cancel. Do you know why?" Stewie asked, obviously not expecting and answer from Brian, who simply shook his head. Stewie's lip curled. "Because, in their country, any homosexual act is punishable by fourteen years in prison." He ended curtly, with a slight chuckle. "What did they think I was going to do? Run into their country and have sex with the first man I saw?" he ended, laughing.

"What brought this up?" Brian finally asked. Stewie's laughter turned cold.

"Because coming out was possibly the worst business move I ever made." He said, his voice dripping with contempt. Brian swallowed.

"The car bomb didn't have anything to do with that…did it?" he asked timidly.

"Who the hell knows anymore?" Stewie replied, falling silent. Brian took it as an end to the conversation. He still felt horribly uncomfortable, fingering the hem of his coat nervously.

The tax ride home was silent for the most part. At one point Brian looked over to see Stewie visibly shaking. Out of instinct, he reached over and put and arm around him, causing Stewie's eyes to widen before moving in closer, desperate for warmth. Brian felt guilty to be in such close contact, but he couldn't really help it. Stewie's face pressed against Brian's collarbone, his breath becoming much slower and more relaxed. Brian sighed, leaning back against Stewie, the guilt growing exponentially as he rested his chin on top of Stewie's head.

Back at the apartment, Brian left Stewie safe in front of the TV as he went to take a shower. The hot water rained down on him, causing his tense shoulders to finally start to relax. The stress of the day had really piled up on top of him. His thoughts kept racing back to the driver that was killed. A mad was killed today, Stewie being the intentional target. How dangerous was it to be associated with Stewie? These people will tear down everyone around him just to get a clear shot. Brian sighed again, leaning up against the walls of the shower, simply feeling the water run over him. _It feels wonderful to be alive._

After he had dried off and gotten dressed into more comfortable clothes, he returned to where he had left Stewie. He looked so small sitting there on the large, leather couch. The fact that he was wrapped in a large blanket wearing a t-shirt that was far too big for him didn't help the illusion.

"Fell better?" Stewie asked as Brian plopped down beside him.

"Much. How about you?" he asked in return, his eyes focused on the TV. Stewie shrugged.

"I'm sore as all hell, but so thankful they didn't make me stay overnight in that bloody hospital. The place gives me the creeps." He replied, turning to look at Brian. Brian continued to stare at the screen a moment longer before he slowly turned his head to meet Stewie's gaze. His eyes were big and dark, almost like they had seen too much too fast. Brian felt like he needed to say something.

"Yeah." He said finally. Stewie gave him a puzzled look.

"Yeah what?" he asked, furrowing his brow. Brian shook his head, reaching out to pull Stewie against him once more.

Stewie made a small, uncertain noise, before leaning willingly into Brian. The two of them fell back onto the couch, Stewie resting contently on Brian's chest, the other man's arms around him. The dull pain in his ribs seemed to fade with the dancing butterflies in his stomach. His head rested under Brian's chin. He felt the vibration out of his chest as Brian spoke.

"This is weird." He said quietly. Stewie smiled, huffing a little.

"Just leave it be." He replied, bringing a hand up to rest beside his head on Brian's clavicle, running a thumb across it thoughtfully. He rose and fell with Brian's chest as he sighed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

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_3_


	11. Another Road to Rhode Island

_Greetings wonderful readers! Sorry it's been such a long time. I had a lot of stuff to catch up with over break, college apps and all...  
But I finally decided to sit down and finishing cranking out this chapter. This story's almost drawing to a close! No worries, I have a sequel planned (simply because I don't want to have a shit-ton of chapters and all).  
I could have made this chapter a little longer, but I figured this was enough information to ponder for now.  
Besides, I need a fresh, new chapter for when Louis and Brian are reunited. :]_

_I cannot thank all of you enough for all the reviews I'm receiving! It's very encouraging!_

_I wish everyone a Happy New Year! See you in 2009!_

_~Gregor  
_

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**Chapter 10 - Another Road to Rhode Island**

The following day was surprisingly pleasant. Stewie stayed home, needing time to sort out the death of his recent employee, sending hoards of flowers and substantial checks to the family in mourning. Given the recent events, Stewie was in a relatively cheery mood. He proceeded with his usual jeers towards Brian and was almost grateful for the reciprocation. In the midst of chaos, things between them seemed to be more normal than ever.

Brian padded softly down the hallway into Stewie's room where he sat at a desk, typing away at the computer. His long fingers seemed as though they never left the keys.

"You know, Stewie, there's that wonderful grand piano sitting in your living room, and I haven't heard you touch a single key." He pointed out. Stewie stopped typing and turned around slowly.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked with a smirk. Brian held up his hands in defense.

"Hey, I can barely play twinkle, twinkle little star." He replied sheepishly. "I just remember you starting to play when you were about two, so I mean, if you've kept it up all these years…" he babbled. Stewie grinned.

"I needed a break. Jesus, working from home is a bitch." He remarked, scooting his chair back and rising, popping his back a few times as well.

Brian followed him eagerly into the living room, his mind filled with jazz and Sinatra. Stewie sat down gracefully at the piano, his plaid pajama pants and oversized maroon t-shirt adding an extra hint of elegance. Suddenly, and without warning, Stewie began to play the most extravagant, loud composition Brian had ever heard. He felt his eyes widen and his heart rate quicken as he watched, slack jawed, the amazing speed with which Stewie played. His fingers seemed to move independently from one another, as if each had their own idea of what note should be next.

As he finished with a traditional, rousing three-part, booming cadence, Brian couldn't help but stare in awe.

"What was that?" he asked finally. Stewie gave him a snide look.

"Something I wrote a while back. I took two years of music theory, composition, and history back in college. It was sort of a hobby, if you will." He replied, obviously proud of his music background.

"Magnificent!" Brian applauded. Stewie took a small bow.

"Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week!" Brian hit him on the head playfully.

"Do you know anything I could sing to?" he couldn't help but ask. Stewie tapped his chin thoughtfully before shaking his head.

"No, sorry. But I can learn anything you give me." He grinned. Brian grinned as well.  
"I'll have to keep that in mind." He replied silkily.

The two of them proceeded to stand there awkwardly, for another minute, touching the piano and generating small talk around favorite baroque composers. Stewie eventually began to start playing again, Brian wandering over to the couch. Sinking down into the cool leather, he let his mind wander as the grand piano filled to room. Stewie was finally in his element after weeks of torturous work. He felt at ease, calm, and focused. A smile drifted across his face as his eyes closed, his fingers continuing to glide across the piano.

Stewie continued to work from his apartment for the rest of the week. By the time the weekend rolled around, the two were packed and on the rode to Rhode Island for a second time, only under slightly different circumstances. They pulled out of the parking garage at eight o'clock exactly. Brian found out the hard way that Stewie was very fastidious when it came to arriving on time. He grumbled all the way down the elevator, stumbling groggily to the car. Stewie hummed merrily to himself, turning the radio to a nice classical station. At least Brian could sleep to it.

It seemed like only minutes had passed before Brian snapped awake. The midday sun was high in the sky and it appeared they had stopped at a small rest area. Stewie sat on the hood of the car, prodding something in his hand thoughtfully before tossing it into his mouth and taking a swig of coke. A pill? Brian continued to watch him curiously as he got up and walked back to the driver side.

"Are you sick?" Brian asked bluntly. Stewie jumped.

"Oh! Brian! I didn't know you were awake! Did you sleep well?" he asked, grinning.

"Yeah, I caught that subject change there…" Brian retorted flatly.

"Oh fuck off." Stewie barked back, getting in and slamming the door. He started the car viciously, blatantly ignoring Brian's wide-eyed shock to his reaction.

"It was a simple question." He piped after they had made it down the road a ways.

"It's a fucking vitamin I have to take! What is so terribly fascinating about that?" Stewie shot back, hostility still prevalent.

"It's not the medication, it's your reaction that has me interested now." Brian continued, his tone smooth as silk. It was enough to drive Stewie up a wall. Brian saw Stewie's eye physically twitch.

"We're moving away from the subject." He stated calmly. And they did.

Brian spent the next hour in silent contemplation over various things, not only the mysterious pill Stewie was popping every four hours, but also his quick-to-defend reaction. Stewie's mood swings in general were enough to keep Brian's thoughts busy for two hours. Luckily, Stewie interrupted his thoughts after just one.

"Sorry about the outburst back there." He mumbled quickly. Brian had to wake himself up.

"Ah, no problem… I mean, hey, it's behind us right? No use staying mad over the holiday right?" he said cheerfully, a goofy grin working its way across his face. Stewie's expression was a mixture of sadness and concern.

"I don't like for people to know I'm … sick." He said softly, spitting the last word out. Brian swallowed dryly.

"So it wasn't a vitamin?" Brian let the silence answer him. Stewie glanced over briefly, making eye contact before looking back to the road. His eyes looked more sunken in than usual, the unmistakable look of shame flashing across his face.

"Come on, just because you're a little sick doesn't show weakness." Brian tried to encourage. "You'll get better eventually." Stewie made a small sound before sighing loudly, his expression turning even more pitiful.

"Brian… this is a conversation for another day." He said grimly. Brian felt his stomach twist as he had a horrible urge to put his foot in his mouth. He complied however, and quickly changed the subject. He kept Stewie's thoughts busy with all the things they were going to do once they were back in good ole' Quahog.

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_I urge you to draw your own conclusions. ;) But don't expect me to give anything away. _

_~Gregor  
_


	12. Home Sweet Home

_I wrote non-stop today to get this done! My muse was kicking ass and taking names, so I thought I'd take advantage of that.  
Unfortunately I've been having trouble sleeping lately... but the upside of that is that I've gotten to write! Win for readers, lose for me. :(  
Anyhoo, sorry if this chapter is filled with TEH DRAMAZ and TEH ANGSSSTT, but I feel like it had to be done. Plus, it just adds a little juice. Hopefully Stewie and Brian can get along when Christmas rolls around. _Until then, enjoy! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~Gregor Samsa

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Brian's heart was pounding in his ears as they turned onto Spooner St. He felt as though he was going to throw up as they pulled into the hauntingly familiar driveway.

"Stewie, I can't do this." Brian squeaked, grabbing his friend's coat sleeve. Stewie sneered, jerking his arm free.

"Too late now. You were in full support of this only yesterday. Man up. Besides…" Stewie looked pensive for a moment, before shaking his head. "Just put on your tie." He commanded, amusement still latent in your voice. Brian swallowed and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before looping the red tie around his neck.

Stewie had gone to the trunk to remove their suitcases. _God, Brian packs more than a gay man…_ he mused as he laboriously pulled the massive suitcase out of his trunk. With a grunt and a thud, the enormous parcel landed on the lawn just as Brian opened the door to get out.

"I still don't feel any better about this, I mean… what if they freak out?" Brian continued, pacing nervously as Stewie struggled with his own suitcase next.  
"Will you calm down already? You're making _me_ nervous. It'll be fine, I promise." Stewie said, yelping as the suitcase slipped out of his grip. Brian rushed over to help.

"Thanks." Stewie said sarcastically. "Now do you want me to hold you hand?" he asked wryly. Brian pouted.

"Would you really?" he asked, a small smile curling on his lips.

"Fuck off!" Stewie said with a grin, followed by a chuckle on Brian's behalf.

"Best get all the foul language out of you while you still can." Brian chided with a quavering voice as he stood beside Stewie on the doorstep, his heart rate beginning to rise once more. Stewie gave him a genuine smile of encouragement before pushing the doorbell.

The door opening seemed to be in slow motion for Brian, all he could hear was the beating of his own heart.

"Stewie, what have I told you about ringing the doorbell? This is your home too you know." Lois said, her voice resonating happiness. Stewie then did something Brian thought he would never live to see, ironically enough; he stepped in and embraced his mother.  
"It's good to have you home, baby." She cooed, gently petting the back of his head. Brian was only able to gawk. She looked as though she had barely aged a day, though she had small streaks of grey hair curling behind her ears, it almost made her look wiser. Her eyes were tired, but shone brightly when she looked at Stewie. It was amazing how much she loved him.

"Who is this?" she asked, turning to Brian and beaming. He felt his heart stop. Stewie looked visibly unsettled as well.

"Well, Mother…" he began, uncertainly. Lois smiled warmly again.

"Honey, it's okay… you came out to us a long time ago…" she assure, beaming at Brian. Both men flushed deeply.

"No, Mother, you misunderstand me." Stewie began, shooting a wary glance towards Brian. "You see, an introduction as to who this is would be unnecessary because… you already know him." Stewie ended lamely with a grimace. Lois looked confused. Her gaze turned back to Brian, soaking in his features, trying to pinpoint anything distinctive.

"I…" she began.

"Hello, Lois." Brian heaved a heavy sigh. Lois's eyes went wide, looking nervously back at Stewie before locking eyes with Brian.

"S-Say that again?" she asked, taking a step towards the man. Brian took a breath. This was almost too dramatic for his personal taste.

"I said hello… Lois. It's been a while." Bran repeated. Lois's face contorted in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

"Brian?" she spat out, her eyebrows knitting together in skepticism. Brian beamed.

"Wow, you caught on a lot faster than Stewie did." He exclaimed.

"Hey, come on man, she doesn't have to deal with the whole fake family relation fraud on a daily basis." He whined in his own defense. Lois held up her hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you playing some kind of joke?" she asked, clearly irritated.

"No joke, mother." Stewie assured.

"Yeah, but to tell you the truth, we're still as confused as you are." Brian admitted, rubbing the back of his head nervously. Lois still just stared at them for another minute before she started to laugh.

"Wh-what?!" she asked, still laughing. Brian sighed and Stewie rubbed his eyes.

"Shall we go inside?" Stewie asked. Brian nodded. Lois continued to chuckle on the front stoop.

------

About an hour and four cups of coffee later, Lois had finally calmed down enough to understand (as much as one could) the situation at hand. The three of them gathered in the small, cozy kitchen. Brian and Lois sat at the table, while Stewie positioned himself in the corner, merely an observer as he sipped his coffee.

"Humor me here, but ate you telling me that you just sort of woke up as a human?" Lois asked, rubbing her temple. Brian nodded.

"Listen, I know this is a lot to take in…" Brian began. Lois began to laugh again.

"I don't know why you're not freaking out more." She exclaimed, giving him a playful look. He returned her with a sheepish grin.

"Well, I mean, I've probably had the best few weeks of my… life." He smiled genuinely. Stewie gave him a skeptical look. As did Lois.

"With Stewie? You guys never seemed to get along back in the day. Although I have to admit he's grown up into quite an amazing young man." She doted, smiling affectionately at her son. Stewie sighed. Brian laughed.

"Let's turn the conversation off of me please." He ordered.

"But really, Stewie… it's been great. It's taken the shock out of this whole ordeal. I mean, it's nice to just do normal things, and as a human at last. No more discrimination." Brian rambled, catching Stewie's eye once only to see him turn away with a blush.

"Well that's just great boys, but what do you say we have a little celebratory dinner? Hmm? I'm sorry Peter isn't here to welcome you home, but you know how he is." She said, laughing back the resentment in her voice. Brian smiled.

"Don't worry Lois, I don't mind having to explain it all again." He assured. Lois simply sighed.

"I love him, but sometimes I just can't stand it!" She exclaimed, running a hand through her hair nervously. "He's never here anymore!" The side of Brian's mouth twitched. Stewie's eyes narrowed.

"I'm going to take our things upstairs." He said, setting his mug in the sink before briskly walking out, leaving the other two alone. Brian threw him a questioning look, receiving an emotionless glance in return. Lois got up from the table and began to bustle about the kitchen in preparation for dinner as her and Brian continued to talk.

------

Convincing Peter of Brian's validity took all of five minutes.

"It's good to have you back, buddy!" he exclaimed loudly, as Brian just stared at him.

"Well, Peter, I have to say that I've missed you skepticism of all things irrational." He said sarcastically with a grin, slapping his friend across the back. Peter was another one of those people that just remained timeless.

"Now what do you say we go on down to the Clam and grab a celebratory beer? On me! Well… maybe not on me. But just the fact that I had the thought should show you how glad I am to have you back." Peter rambled joyously.

"You know I'd love to, but Lois has prepared a magnificent dinner for us." Brian reminded him, putting a hand on his back and steering him towards the kitchen.

"Well how about afterwards? Stewie can come too! How old is he now, eighteen?"

"Yeah."

"Fantastic! It'll be a guy's night out. I'll call Cleveland, and Quagmire and Joe. Just like old times!"

"Yeah." Brian sad under his breath. "Just like old times."

Dinner was sub par, at best, but of course Brian flattered every single side dish that game his way, causing Stewie to cut through his steak a little too enthusiastically. One thing Stewie was never able to stand was Brian's brown-nosing when it came to anything involving Lois. It was taking all his willpower not to get up and leave the table to purge. The fact that he was now human gave him a better chance at actually succeeding in his seduction, no matter how much Lois claimed she loved Peter. Brian was irresistible. His smile was charming, his eyes were heart-melting. Stewie found himself weak at the knees on the very first day he came back. He sighed heavily, checking his watch.

"If you'll excuse me." He said, delicately pushing back from the table and striding to the kitchen.

The glass filled silently with water before Stewie popped the pill in his mouth and drank generously. He poured the remainder of the water out and set it down gingerly in the sink.

"You look a lot better." Came a soft voice from the doorway. Stewie turned around to see his mother.

"In the way that I don't look like a walking corpse? Thank you, mother." He replied bitterly. Lois strode towards him.

"Really." She continued. "You do look healthier. Maybe the pills are working." She said with a smile. Stewie did not return it.

"They don't help they just hold it off." More bitterness. "Don't you understand? This thing evolves fast enough to blow Darwin's socks off." A laugh. Stewie covered his eyes with a hand.

"Have faith." Lois said, reaching up to gingerly take her son's face in her hands. Stewie looked at her sadly.

"Faith is for the weak, Lois. Now go back to dinner." He replied coldly. Lois sighed, reluctantly turning back.

------

Later that night as the clam, Stewie had three Cosmopolitans before Brian took him outside to talk.

"You're going to kill yourself if you have anymore." He chided.

"Says the 'recovering' alcoholic."

"Point taken, but seriously… what's on your mind?" Stewie shot Brian a half lidded look of disgust.

"Death, if you must know." He replied smoothly, grabbing the beer out of Brian's hand and taking a swig.

"Don't mix! And why death? I mean… I know it's been a prevalent topic of the evening." Brian shifted nervously, taking the beer back.

"Because it happens to all of us, and the fucked up part is you've proved it's not permanent." Stewie slurred.

"I haven't proved anything." Brian began to protest.

"Bull shit you haven't. Look at you! This isn't reincarnation, this is fucking… Frankenstein at his best!" Stewie continued. Brian noticed the excess amount of cursing.

"You're drunk."

"You're a brown nosing son of a bitch!" Stewie retorted loudly. "I see the way you look at her, I always have! You think now that you're the same size it'll be easier for you to get in her pants?"

"Are you talking about Lois?" Brian asked, trying to keep his tone at a reasonable decibel.

"Who the fuck else? Jesus Christ, Brian, when are you going to realize that nothing is _ever_ going to happen between the two of you? And even if something did, what would happen then? She'd leave Peter? You'd both run off and live happily ever after? Think reasonably Brian! Reason is all you've ever believed in. Save yourself a lot of pain and move on to some easier catch."

"What, like you!?" Brian roared back, finally reaching his pinnacle of frustration. Stewie went silent.

"I never said that." He replied quietly.

"Oh spare me the bull shit, Stewie." Brian spat. "You think you can win me over with your money and your piano and your fancy job? You tell me to be reasonable, but look at yourself…"

"Look at me? I'm successful! I've accomplished more than over seventy percent of America in under twenty years! And…!"

"And you're dying." Brian interjected, immediately biting his tongue as Stewie visibly blanched. Without another word, Stewie turned and walked down the street, his hands in his pockets. Brian felt a knot beginning to form in his throat as the guilt settled down to the pit of his stomach. He stared after Stewie for a long while before slowly turning to go back inside.

------

"Lois, has Stewie come home?" Brian asked almost as soon as they walked in the door.

"You mean he's not with you guys? How did you lose him?" she asked, her tone worried. Brian hung up his coat as Peter settled down onto the couch.

"Eh, don't worry about him. He takes long walks all the time. He'll be back eventually. Hey Lois, will you bring me a beer?" Lois rolled her eyes and beckoned Brian into the kitchen with her.

"So what happened?" she asked, pulling a Paul Tuckett out of the refrigerated, popping it open on the counter and taking a swig.

"Stewie and I… kind of got into a fight." Brian admitted, staring at his feet.

"Yeah, and what else is new?" Lois asked dryly. Brian sighed.

"This was a little different… this was…" Brian stopped, looking up he made eye contact with Lois. "Lois, is Stewie sick?" he asked hesitantly. Lois's expression became genuinely concerned.

"Oh… oh dear." She touched a hand to her lips. "He didn't tell you." She said more matter-o-factly than anything else. Brian felt the lump come back. Licking her lips, Lois set the beer down on the counter.

"Brian, I don't feel like this is my place to tell you… and even if it was, I wouldn't know how to." She began, leaning against the refrigerator. Taking a deep breath, she looked back up. "Brian… he has AIDS."

------

Stewie sat shivering on a park bench when Brian found him. He had left the house immediately after his conversation with Lois and headed out on a diligent search. The night sky was clear and Brian could see his breath on the air as he walked briskly towards the huddled figure. For a moment, he simply stood there, looking down at his friend.

"Hey." He finally said lamely, unable to think of anything better. Stewie looked up, his lips slightly paler than they should have been.

"H-hey." He sputtered. They stood there awkwardly another moment before Brian sat down next to him.

"Stewie, I…" he began softly, watching Stewie close his eyes.

"Someone told you, then. I can tell by the regret in your voice." His voice cut through the thin air, making Brian flinch, though the words hadn't been too harsh.

"Come home. This isn't good for you to be out in this weather." Brian coaxed, laying a hand on Stewie's shoulder. He turned his head suddenly to make eye contact with Brian. Stewie's eyes looked more tired in that usual, his cheekbones were sunken and the lines on his forehead were more pronounced in the lighting of the street lamp. Brian returned his hand to his lap, almost afraid of the shadow of a man that sat beside him.

"I didn't deserve this." He said under his breath.

"No one deserves it, Stewie…"

"No! You don't understand! Some people…they're just asking for it! They do hard drugs! They have promiscuous sex! I…" he paused, swallowing. "I loved him… and he didn't… tell me." he put his face in his hands, doubling over. Brian felt like he should do something. "But just look at me now. Dying… alone… miserable." He exclaimed, muffled by his hands.

"You're not alone." Brian said out of instinct. Stewie looked at him, anger spreading across his face like a drop of blood in water. "Don't be angry!" Brian began in his own defense. "But you're not!" he continued, venturing enough to lay a hand on Stewie's shoulder again. Stewie stood up as he did so.  
"We should get home." Brian simply looked up at him, dejected.

"But…"

"You better hurry, or you might catch a cold." Stewie said, sarcasm and bitterness dripping from his lips. Brian sighed, reluctantly getting up to follow him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

_Long chapter is long. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me thus far! It's been a great ride! I hope there's still a long road ahead of us.  
I hope the AIDS thing isn't too cliché, like I've said before, I haven't been in the FG fandom for too long, so I don't know what's been done and what hasn't. However, I do have strong viewpoints that I like to share in my stories. If you catch any flaws, feel free to tell me! I'm no doctor, I'm just a humble little art student.  
Thanks again,_

_Gregor  
_


	13. No Easy Street

**Note: Rating was changed to M due to strong language in the past few chapters. Not that this matters, you 14-year-olds are going to read this no matter what...**

_Hello readers! I'm back at school, now, so I won't be able to write as much as I did over break. I have a solid plan for this story, though, so it should not be hard to finish. I expect maybe 5 or 6 more chapters. _

_Thank you all for sticking with me so far! It's been really fun to write! This chapters a little more uplifting than the last Hopefully the next one will be as well. Stewie and Brian are always going to be bickering, but that's just how they are._

_Without further adue, I give you chapter 12!_

_---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The following day passed in civil awkwardness at best. Brian really didn't know what to say to Stewie and the same went for Stewie himself. It was then that Brian realized all those times he and Stewie fought, sparred, slandered each other, or were just plain nasty didn't have any real meaning behind them. He sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee quietly as the early morning silence flooded the room, the soft twilight leaving colorless shadows in the corner. Closing his eyes he breathed deeply, recalling what it used to be like: simple, entertaining, and uncomplicated. He longed for the past, yet wouldn't trade this present for anything. The soft patter of feet behind him brought him out of his trance.

Turning around, Brian was greeted with a bleary-eyed Stewie in a worn house robe.

"Gmrning…" he mumbled, dragging his feet over to the coffee pot. Brian chuckled contently.

"Good morning, sunshine." He replied cheerily. Stewie gave him an annoyed glance before grabbing a mug from the cabinet, reminding Brian they weren't exactly on the best of terms.

"Uh…err… if you're so groggy, why are you up so early?" Brian asked, genuinely curious. But more so he was simply looking for a conversation starter. Stewie sighed heavily, pouring himself a generous cup of the deep black coffee.

"Mornings have always been peaceful for me. Besides, I hate waking up in the middle of the day. It just doesn't feel right." He explained, adding two spoonfuls of sugar to his mug. "I might ask the same of you." He continued, glancing up to meet Brian's gaze. Brian smiled out of the corner of his mouth, immediately looking down.

"I guess I'd say the same." He replied, unsatisfied with his own answer.

Stewie dragged his feet over to sit adjacent to Brian at the corner of the table. He took a long sip before looking up again.

"So…" he prompted, trying his best not to come off like a pretentious ass.

"So…" Brian returned, trying his best not to come off nervous. "I guess I should… take this opportunity to, formally apologize." He strangled out, immediately taking a sip of his coffee. Stewie gave him an amused smile.

"Isn't that just like you… always playing the martyr?" He began, rolling his eyes.

"Now wait a minute…" Brian retorted, holding up a finger.

"Kidding! Jeeze, must be too early for jokes." Stewie explained, reaching over and lowering Brian's finger. Seeing as how Brian was still a little flustered, Stewie continued. "What.. I meant was I had my fair share of being an ass the other night as well." He confessed, tracing a finger around the edge of his mug. Brian smiled apprehensively, looking down at his own mug. "So I'm sorry." He ended, looking up and capturing Brian's eyes in his own. They were piercing, addicting.

"I'm… sorry as well." Brian said, frightened by the weakness in his voice.

The two sat there in silence for a long moment, drinking their coffee every once in a while. Were they really acting like adults? Apologizing? How uncharacteristic of them. Finally, Brian spoke up again.

"So that's it then?" he asked, almost amused. Stewie half grinned.

"I suppose." He shrugged, his eyes becoming brighter as more light began to flood the room; the warm light of a cloudless, December sky.

"You know, I really didn't mean a lot of those…things I said." Stewie continued, beginning to ramble in his own mind. "I just…" he trailed off, looking up at Brian for an instant before returning to the depth of his coffee mug. "I can't help it. And when I see the way you…_moon _over Lois, I just get…"

"Jealous?" Brian finished. He saw Stewie's jaw tighten.

"I didn't say that." Stewie muttered nervously, reaching a hand up to run long fingers through his hair. Brian inhaled but failed to say anything else. Instead, he simply reached his hand up to pull Stewie's hand away and down onto the table.

"Stewie, it's okay. You… you don't have to be… a-ashamed." Brian attempted to sound comforting, though his voice quavered more than he felt comfortable with. He was awful at consoling. Everything always came out awkward and forced. Yet in this particular circumstance, he was trying his hardest to sound sincere. "It's crazy how much you've changed. I mean… in a good way. Grown. Not changed. You're still you." He continued, laughing tensely. "I just… remember thinking what an annoying little prick you used to be." He paused again to swallow. "But I guess I'm just…" Words suddenly failed him. "Damn it." Their hands were still touching. Brian felt his pulse quicken.

Stewie just looked at him with utter surprise. He took a moment to study Brian, his eyes roaming his face searchingly, before he brought his other hand from being wrapped around his coffee mug to join his other hand that clung to Brian's. Slowly and timidly, Stewie brought the man's hand to rest up against the side of his face, nuzzling into it, sighing his name. Brian felt his jaw loosen as he could only look on in awe as his closed hand pressed up against Stewie's cheek. It was against his will, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Eventually, he uncurled his fingers to caress the other man's face, earning a grateful look from Stewie who promptly closed his eyes, one hand cupping Brian's the other wrapped around his wrist, gently stroking it. _Oh god, what am I getting myself into?_ Brian thought, swallowing hard as all moisture in his mouth left him. His heart was beating so rapidly it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest.

"I…" he began hoarsely. The light flipped on above them, causing Stewie to jerk upright and Brian to slam his hand down onto the table with enough force to hurt quite a deal.

"Oh my, did I interrupt you two?" Lois asked, smirking as she glided past the table.

"Damn it Lois! You nearly scared me half to hell!" Stewie yelled.

"Aren't you already half to hell?" Brian asked, inspecting his reddening hand. Stewie gave him a cheeky grin.

"I suppose they already have a spot reserved for me then… the disease-ridden homosexual that I am." He played along.

"Stewie! Don't say things like that." Lois admonished. "That's a terrible…"  
"Oh I'm kidding, mother… for the most part." He mumbled as and afterthought. Brian gave him a weak smile, his heart rate still not completely under control.

It was strange, terrifying even. The rest of the day was electrifying. Brian was scared, intrigued, and yet not entirely unsettled by these new feelings. A simple glance his way made his stomach feel as though it would fly away. Though the rest of him felt normal, as in still very attracted to women, the slightest smile on Stewie's behalf left him feeling inexplicably charmed. It was an unexplainable phenomenon that was driving Brian up a wall. As soon as he got a chance to think things over, he took it.

Stewie's old room was quiet and dark. Brian closed the door silently, pressing up against it in relief. After taking a minute to settle his thoughts, he moved to sit on the old bed, still adorned with the same bed sheets from Stewie's high school days. Brian wondered when exactly in Stewie's life he decided to end his desire for world domination. Wait, he came in here to think about his own problems. But wasn't that exactly his problem? No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get Stewie off his mind. Or should he start calling him Stuart now that he was older. Maybe Stu…

Brian sighed loudly. _This is the opposite of what I was trying to accomplish._ He got up and wandered over to the small window on the opposite wall. There _was_ no physical attracting there. It was impossible for him to be physically attracted to another man. It just felt wrong in his mind. _Not that there's anything wrong with being gay…_ Brian thought hurriedly, as if someone was listening to his thoughts._ I mean I'm so supportive of Jasper and… Stewie now, I guess._ Brian pressed his forehead up against the window. It was cold. He heard the phone ring downstairs. Lois answered it then called for Stewie. Brian suddenly got a pulling sensation in his stomach. Something was amiss.

Jogging down the stairs, he turned the corner to see the look of utter surprise on Stewie's face as he stood in the kitchen.

"How is that even possible? I paid out the _ass_ for an impenetrable firewall and you call me up to say someone has done just that!?" Stewie hissed, his voice dangerously low. Brian strained his ears to hear the other line.

"Well, Mr. Griffin, Sir, we have our best men looking into the situation, but we'd feel better if you came down yourself." The man's voice replied. Brian narrowed his eyes. The tone in his voice had an unusual quality to it, almost as if he was hiding something.

"Mr. Brookes." Stewie began, the venom of his tone practically dripping through the receiver. "I am on vacation. I am with my family for Christ's sake. I cannot simply run back to New York at your every cry for help. What kind of mother would I be?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "I pay people for this kind of thing. If I did everything myself, you wouldn't have a job." There was a long pause.

"We would still feel much more comfortable if you came out and took care of the problem. It's a delicate matter. Hackers can either be a joke or a serious threat. We don't want to take any chances." His voice was stronger this time, more sure of himself. Stewie sighed, massaging his temples.

"Fine." I'll be there by six at the earliest." Stewie gave up, hanging the phone up immediately.

Turning to look at Brian, Stewie gave him an annoyed look.

"Are you just going to stand there like a slack-jawed imbecile until I return?" he asked bitterly, briskly walking past him and up the stairs. Brian was hot on his heels.

"Stewie, I don't think you should go." He interjected.

"Well nobody asked you what you think." Came the sharp reply.

"I think…"

"Did you even hear me?"

"Listen!" Brian shouted as Stewie went to open his bedroom door. Reluctantly stopping and turning around, he glared at Brian over the reading glasses he still had on.

"You have my full attention." He said sardonically. Brian sighed.

"I know I'm not a dog anymore." He began, seeing Stewie's facial expression soften slightly. "But the last time I had a bad feeling, it turned out to be something…" Brian was good at a lot of things, but expressing intuition in words was not one of them. Stewie looked pensive.

"So what do you suggest?" he asked in earnest. Brian pursed his lips.  
"Don't go. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Stewie smirked.

"You think I want something bad to happen to you? You could be seriously hurt or something." Brian asked, offended.

"I know… what fun would I be then?" Stewie asked, pushing past Brian to go back downstairs. Brian felt his stomach flutter. _Damn it!_

"I'll call, then, and tell them that it's a problem they're going to have to deal with until I return to the office after New Years." Stewie concluded.

"Plus it's the eve before Christmas Eve!" Brian added. Stewie raised and eyebrow.

"Did you have something in mind?" he implored. Brian gulped.

"Wanna go get some coffee?" he squeezed out, shrugging to make it seem natural. Stewie stood there for a moment, expressionless. Finally, a smile finally tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"How cliché." He said with a grin, walking back down the stairs. Brian smiled.

"It's a date, then." He said to himself, amused at the very thought.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_[punishes self for the insane amount of fluff]_

_Even though I'm writing a StewiexBrian, I can't help but keep Brian straight. I just don't see him any other way. He loves his women!! Doesn't mean he can't have these conflicted feelings. ;)  
_

_~Gregor  
_


	14. Temporary Hiatus

**Temporary Hiatus **

_Hello everyone! I'm not dead… yet! I've just been swamped with school work. It's been just awful. So as a consequence, I haven't even been able to start the next chapter. (I have it all planed out, mind you… just no time! No time at all!) So I just wrote this up real quick like to let you all know that I should be up and running again in 2 weeks at the most! I'm going to try and get a bit of writing done this weekend, but no promises. _

_Thank you all for your patience and cooperation. And I still love all the reviews I'm receiving! They make my day that much better._

_Peace, love, and happiness,_

_Mr. Gregor Samsa _


	15. Misery

_Back from the dead at last! I should have most definitely been doing homework today, but ah well. No classes tomorrow. I'll do it then.  
Thank you to everyone who was hanging on during the Hiatus. Coming back from Winter Break proved to be more stressful than I had anticipated. Homework on top of the play on top of demo reading. It's a lot to deal with. So here's the next chapter! It's fairly short, but big things happen.  
I hope it's what was anticipated._

_Don't let the title fool you, either... it's not a sad chapter.  
_

_--------------------------------------------------_

**"Misery"**

It was snowing again. A soft layer began to coat the ground, almost in anticipation of things to come. The car took a while to heat up, so most of the ride into town consisted of shivering and weather complaints. There was a pregnant silence between the two men, something unsaid that both knew would reveal itself before the nights end. Brian huffed, his breath hanging in the air as he gripped the steering wheel tighter with his fingerless gloves.

"Don't you love the winter?" Stewie asked, trailing a finger down the foggy passenger side window.

"Personally, I always wished I was a bird so I could just fly south." He replied, feeling lame.

"That's lame." Stewie proclaimed, echoing Brian's thoughts. "Birds are so… vulnerable." He continued with an odd tone of reflection. Brian nodded in semi-agreement.

"I suppose they are."

The coffee shop of choice was attached to a small bookstore by the name of Malaprop's. Quaint. Liberal. It included all the elements of Brian's choice hangout.

"No unpurchased books in café." Stewie read the small sign aloud. "Is unpurchased a word?" he asked, grinning as he turned to Brian.

"It is now." Brian replied, feeling charmed as he began to wander over to browse the bookshelves.

"Books first, coffee later?" Stewie asked, trailing along after him.

"Absolutely. Literature takes prevalence." Brian said matter-o-factly.

"Such big words you use!" Stewie said with wide eyes, sarcasm practically palpable.

"What? 'Takes?'" Brian asked, shocked. Stewie's expression went flat, save for a small smirk as he intentionally bumped into Brian before wandering down an isle of his own. Brian sighed, eyes following him long after he had turned a corner.

After fifteen minutes of browsing, Brian wandered towards the front of the store to find Stewie, unsuccessful in his own treasure hunt. He spotted a thin figure sitting on the floor hunched over a book near the front window.

"What did you find?" Brian inquired, sliding down next to him.

"Chekhov." Stewie replied, his tone trance-like.

"Chekhov?" Brian inquired. Stewie remained glued to the book for another moment before looking up. He couldn't help but notice how close they were.

"You've never read any Chekhov? Anton Chekhov?" Brian shook his head. Stewie scoffed. "He practically invented short stories!" Stewie exaggerated. Brian's eyes looked blank still.

"Well, this one I'm reading… at the moment. It's called _Misery_." Stewie explained, waving off Brian's amused expression.

"Gets right to the point, doesn't it?"

"It's actually a very touching story. It's about a carriage driver whose son just died." Stewie began, "All he wants is to talk about it with someone, but no one will listen to him. No one cares." Stewie's eyes trailed off. Brian stared at him intently for a moment before he began to speak. Stewie cut him off.

"Let me read this last bit to you." He said, flipping forward a few pages, clearing his throat and beginning:

"_He puts on his coat and goes into the stables where his mare is standing. He thinks about oats, about hay, about the weather.... He cannot think about his son when he is alone.... To talk about him with someone is possible, but to think of him and picture him is insufferable anguish...._

_"Are you munching?" Iona asks his mare, seeing her shining eyes. "There, munch away, munch away.... Since we have not earned enough for oats, we will eat hay.... Yes,... I have grown too old to drive.... My son ought to be driving, not I.... He was a real cabman.... He ought to have lived.... "_

_Iona is silent for a while, and then he goes on:_

_"That's how it is, old girl.... Kuzma Ionitch is gone.... He said good-by to me.... He went and died for no reason.... Now, suppose you had a little colt, and you were own mother to that little colt.... And all at once that same little colt went and died.... You'd be sorry, wouldn't you?... "_

_The little mare munches, listens, and breathes on her master's hands. Iona is carried away and tells her all about it."_

Stewie ended, sighing loudly.

"Isn't it all so peculiar?" he asked Brian, who had leaned in a little closer during the reading of the story's end.  
"What's peculiar?" he asked in return, returning to a more upright position.

"We're always talking, but we rarely listen. Especially when others need to be listened to, need to bear their burden, we still don't listen."

"You are so different." Brian said without thinking.

"And that is exactly what I'm talking about." Stewie exclaimed, frustrated.

"No! But I am listening!" Brian defended. "I'm just wondering when you started caring about others?" he asked, and amused, yet concerned smile on his face. Stewie simply looked at him, his eyes reflecting wise-ness beyond his years.

"When I became one of those 'others,' Brian." He said simply. "When no one cared enough to listen to me."

They sat in silence for a moment, neither looking at the other.

"Coffee?" Brian finally asked hoarsely.

"I thought you'd never ask." Stewie replied, getting up quickly before helping Brian up as well.

After light chatting over a few coffees, the two began to stroll casually down the frigid streets of downtown Quahog in December.

"You don't still sleep with that ratty old thing do you?" Brian jeered, bumping into Stewie. Simple contact.

"I'm telling you once and for all, no man could ever replace my Rupert. He was my first love." Stewie replied curtly, returning with a fierce shove that knocked Brian off balance for a split second.

"Hey!" Brian cried, recovering only to receive a face-full of snow. Stewie laughed giddily, running down the sidewalk. Brian followed hastily, scooping up a handful of snow off a car and hurling it towards his target. It hit Stewie directly in the back of the head.

"Oh fuck off!" Stewie cried, laughing as he took off his cap and shook it free of snow.

"Okay, truce." Brian declared, holding his hands up, only to receive another snowball to the face.

"Now truce." Stewie said, laughing airily. Brian grinned sheepishly, his face wet from the snow and reddened by the cold.

Stewie coughed lightly, still smiling. His cough, however, wouldn't stop. He soon found himself doubled over in a fit. His eyes watered and his gut ached. As it finally began to subside, he looked up to see Brian, eyes wide with concern as both hands were planted firmly on his shoulders.

"It's okay…" Stewie gasped, tears streaming down his face. "I'm fine…"

"We should get you home." Brian said, feeling guilty for bringing Stewie out in such bad weather.  
"No, please not yet." Stewie begged, grabbing hold of Brian's jacket, pulling close to him. "Just…" he began, burring his face into Brian's chest. "Just… hold me… for a minute." He breathed, muffled, his sides still rising and falling rapidly. Brian did so without hesitation. He leaned back to rest against the wall of a shallow alleyway, holding Stewie to his chest. He allowed himself rest his lips on top of the other man's head. Stewie pulled himself away ever so slightly to where their faces were resting next to each other's, their cheeks brushing against one another.

"Stewie… I…" Brian began. Everything seemed so quiet as the snow fell around them.  
"Stop." Stewie said firmly, pulling back some more to make eye contact. "Just… let it happen." He said, almost desperately as he leaned forward to press his lips against Brian's. They were cold. His were cold. Everything was cold. Stewie crinkled his brow in longing as a pain he hadn't experienced in a long time welled up inside his chest.

Brian began to kiss him back, a hand appearing to caress the side of his face. Each kiss was intense, long and drawn out. The silence was deafening. It seemed to swallow any noises made anywhere. No cars, no people, just the two of them. The scene melted around them. Brian forgot about the cold. He even forgot where he was for a moment. Finally they pulled apart. Brian's eyes remained closed.

"Oh God…" he said, his voice shaky and his tone regretful. Stewie's lips formed a thin line as he stared at the man who was still so close to him.

"Let's go home."

_---------------------------------------------------------------------_

_WHAT!? A kiss!? In MY story!? Well, I suppose it **will **make things a little more interesting. I'm just awful at these "romantic" scenes. Most likely because I've had nothing but awful romantic encounters. So expect awkwardness, if nothing else. I'm glad I've had so many positive (even helpful) reviews so far. It's been fantastic! I hope no one's shaken by the pairing. It had a resolution, I promise._

_**Notes:**  
~Malaprop's is an actual book store, though not in Rhode Island. It's located in Asheville, NC and it's absolutely wonderful! I love to go there on the weekends.  
~"Misery" by Anton Chekhov is a wonderful short story and I recommend everyone read it. It touches on several themes I'm going for in this story. _


	16. The L Word

_Hello everyone! Sorry for the long periods of nothingness. School has been really stressful lately and I was apart of the musical production. Being one of the leads, it consumed a fair amount of time. But now that's over! And I'm on spring break! Hoorah! So I found some time to write in between Demo reading. _

_As a warning, this chapter has a shit-ton of **FLUFF**. There are also a few questions I want to ask you lovely reviewers, but I'll wait until the end of the chapter to do that. In the mean time:  
ENJOY the latest chapter!_

_--------------------------------------------------  
_

The car ride home was silent for the most part. Brian turned on the radio. Christmas songs filled the car, singing about loved ones and good food.

"Now I'm hungry again." Brian said, running a hand over his stomach. Stewie smiled.

"Wanna stop somewhere?" he asked, his voice small. Brian shook his head.

"I'll just… wait. I'd rather get home before the snow gets too bad." He said looking over at Stewie whose eyes remained on the road. He nodded solemnly, his arms visibly shaking though the car was warm.

They pulled into the small driveway to a quiet, dark house. The only light left on was a small lamp in the living room window. The two crept into the house, feeling foolish and young. It was around ten thirty, relatively early to what they were used to.

"They've gotten so old…" Stewie mused with a small grin. "They can't stay up past ten, I swear to God." He joked, his voice trembling as he laughed nervously. Brian felt heat in his face as they locked eyes. Both looked away almost instantly.

"I'm going to go make some tea. Would you like some?" Stewie asked hurriedly. Brian nodded enthusiastically as he moved to sit down on the couch.

He sat there rigidly for however long it took Stewie to make two steaming mugs of vaguely flavored tea. Stewie sat down cautiously beside him, gingerly handing him a mug.

"To the eve of Christmas Eve!" he said triumphantly, only able to blow on his tea due to the temperature.

"Damn straight." Brian agreed, making no motion at all to drink his tea. He simply stared at Stewie hungrily.

"Is it good?" Stewie asked softly. Nervously.

"Yes…" Brian answered, receiving a small smile from Stewie. He gently leaned in towards Stewie, his eyes already slipping closed as he imagined how their second kiss would escalate. What he didn't imagine was scalding hot liquid coming into contact with his inner thigh.

"SHIT FUCK!" He roared, his eyes almost bulging out of his head as he scrambled to stand. Stewie's face looked mortified.

"Let me take that!" He offered frantically as Brian roughly handed him his mug.

"Brian, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault… shit!" Brian stood up, wiping furiously at the quickly cooling spot of liquid on his pants.

"I needed to go change anyways." He said with a dry laugh, looking back at Stewie. They both gazed at each other sheepishly. A light flipped n at the top of the stairs causing them both to jump.

"Brian? Stewie? Is everything ok?" Came Louis's concerned, groggy voice.

"Everything is fine Louis." Brian called out softly, turning back to catch eyes with Stewie again. "Go back to bed." The light flipped off and the two were alone once more.

"I'll be right back." Brian said softly as he padded gently up the stairs.

"Ok." Stewie whispered in reply, not even trying to contain his grin as he drew his legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch. Brian tripped over his pants as he tried to get them off, digging through his still unpacked suitcase for a pair of sleep pants. He finally emerged down the stairs once more wearing red plaid pants and a white t-shirt. Stewie shook with silent laughter.

"I don't understand what's so funny." Brian whispered, sitting down next to Stewie.

"Nothing's funny. That's what's funny." He replied.

"You're a little loopy." Brian observed.  
"Hi." Stewie replied, giggling like a schoolgirl. That was all that needed to be said. Brian was charmed by Stewie's sudden bout of giddiness and innocence. He scooted closer, leaning in slowly and bringing a hand up to Stewie's face. Their lips connected for the second time than evening.

This time, everything was much warmer. Not just the surroundings, but the sentiments as well. Brian felt himself moved by how elated Stewie was at everything that seemed to be happening. He smiled against the other man's lips, their bodies pressed closely together on the couch. It had been so long since Brian had experienced such close contact with another being. It was so comforting. The fact that he was caressing the broad shoulders of a man and not the sensuous hips of a woman soon faded.

Brian pushed Stewie back into the couch, coming down gently on top of him. Their lips parted, leaving room for them to look at each other.

"Brian." Stewie began, practically glowing. "You have no idea how long I've been in love with you." He continued. The "L" word made Brian nervous, breaking eye contact. He quickly covered up his tenseness with a small laugh.

"I think I have an idea." He replied, his eyes now focusing on the rug. He felt Stewie's soft hand caress the side of his face, running a thumb across his eyebrow. He closed his eyes in response.

"Sleep with me?" Stewie asked meekly. Brian's eyes snapped open as his head snapped around to look at Stewie.

"Not like that damn it!" Stewie whispered harshly, laughing a little. "God knows we can't do that…" he trailed off, his face flushing. Brian felt bad.

"I just want to be near someone. In a human's most vulnerable state, it's just nice to have someone there. You understand, right?" he asked, his large, brown eyes looking so childlike and innocent. Brian nodded empathetically.

"I understand." He replied simply.

They both quietly made their way up the Stairs and into Stewie's room. Brian gazed out the window as Stewie changed into sleepwear. It was still snowing: soft, light, fluffy flakes. He felt thin arms encircle his waist, Stewie's cheek pressing against his shoulder. Nothing was said between them. Simply warmth. Somehow they made their way to the bed. Brian held Stewie close beneath the covers, taking in the scent of his hair.

Their breath patterns began to match as the two slept. Everything felt calm, warm, and right. It felt so wonderful to share such a small space with someone else. Brian felt Stewie place a small kiss on his collarbone before the two slipped into unconsciousness, each inhabiting the other's dreams.

--------------------------------------------------------

_... fluff. But I think they needed it. I'm so sick of angst... but I enjoy conflict! So prepare for some shit to fly in the next chapter!_

_Okay, I have a question involving interest.  
As you can tell, the boy's relationship is escalating relatively quickly. I've been musing about a possible "sex scene" but I don't know how that'll affect the audience at hand. Have I acquired a gaggle of yaoi fangirls who would cream their pants at any such predicament? Do I have sensible readers who would prefer a tastefully written scene of passion shared between two mutual beings? Or do I have sensible readers who would prefer if the sex was implied? Either way, there will be no "STEAMING HOT COCK IN TIGHT HOLE" business... just going to say that now. This is not . _

_I would love your input since you guys are the only reason I'm still writing this._

_Much love,  
Gregor  
_


	17. Christmas Eve

_Hello everyone! Sorry it's taking so long to update. I'm rounding the corner at the end of my senior year and I have two HUGE papers due. I devote my time to them, sorry. But luckily, I worked on the first paper all day today, so I decided to sit down and finish this chapter. Sorry the first part is all "OMG ANGST" but whatever... it's plot!time. _

_Anyhoo, enjoy Brian's messed up feelings and fleeting contact with the rest of the family. _

_Gregor_

_----------------------------------------------------  
_

Brian woke slowly, not really remembering where he was. The crust that lined his eyes made it even more difficult. Finally, when the memories of last night came flooding back to him, he sat bolt up right in bed. A mistake, really. White spots burst before his eyes, causing him to groan. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced beside him on the bed. The covers had been thrown back and the only remnants of the sleeping body that was once there was a slight indent in the mattress. Brian swung his feet over the side of the bed and stumbled clumsily down the staircase.

It was light out, just after dawn. Brian assumed it was maybe eight or eight thirty. He entered the kitchen to find Lois and Stewie huddled over an ashtray, both their faces blanched.

"_You_ smoke?" he croaked, feeling the tension in the air rise. Stewie turned to look at him, his eyes sunken and worried.

"If one thing doesn't kill you, something else will." He replied gravely, taking a long drag. Brian's mouth formed a thin line.

"What happened?" he asked, walking over to the table where the two sat. Lois exhaled loudly, shaking her head as she brought a cigarette to her mouth. She looked up at Stewie expectantly.

"Do you remember last night?" he began and Brian's stomach did a summersault.

"I received a phone call from the office in New York talking about a possible hacker…" he continued, and Brian was at ease. It was something office related. Thank God.

"It was a set up." He said darkly, causing Brian to cock his head to the side in inquiry. Stewie continued after another drag.

"They sent five of my most trusted employees to up _my_ office to check the main files which can only be accessed through my computers." He closed his eyes, inhaling a shaky breath. "A bomb was wired into the entry key. They barely got three steps into the room before they were blown all the hell." He ended through gritted teeth. "Then they found Mr. Brookes dead in a janitors closet when I demanded they confront him. Bullet hole through the head. Believed suicide." He ended bitterly, jamming his cigarette into the ashtray.

Lois reached across the table to take Stewie's hand in hers. He was visibly shaking. Brian could only stand there, mouth agape.

"Five of my employees… the closest thing I have to friends…" he began, his voice quavering dangerously. "… they died because of me."

"No." Brian said firmly. Stewie looked up, his face contorted in misery. "They did not die because of you." He simply reaffirmed.  
"Then they died in place of me!" he shouted, his hair falling helplessly in his face. "They had lives! They had lovers! They had families!" he cried, quickly becoming hysterical. "Now they…" he collapsed on the table, vulnerable, hurting. Brian quickly rushed over, pulling a chair up beside Stewie, sitting next to him awkwardly, afraid of what contact might lead to.

"You are alive." He said under his breath, shaking at the thought of insane terrorists out to kill Stewie or sabotage his company. "And as long as you are alive there is hope of catching the bastards responsible." He tried to sound gentle, but it came out angry and vengeful, earning a worried glance from Stewie. His eyes were red, tired, but he was not crying.

Before he could think, Brian lifted a hand to run through Stewie's hair, smiling reassuringly. He met Lois's eyes. They were confused, intrigued, but not judgmental. He mouthed: "talk later" and she showed she understood with a solid nod of her head. The three of them sat in silence until light completely flooded the room and Peter could be heard stirring upstairs.

"Meg and Christ will be arriving late this afternoon." Lois said. "We'll figure out how to explain you to them later…" she said absently as she rose from the table to walk out of the kitchen. Stewie sat up fully, still pale and numb. Brian gave him an encouraging look, reaching over to push up the sides of his mouth into an awkward smile. Stewie laughed half-heartedly and batted Brian's hands away.

"You're right." He said, becoming distant again. "At least we can try to catch the whoever did this." Brian smiled at the use of the word "we."

Lois was waiting for him outside of the kitchen. He arms were crossed as she sat in the chair across from the couch. Brian sat down tentatively across from her, as if the couch would explode if he put too much weight on it. If the couch didn't explode, something else would.

"So…" Lois began softly, hostility very present. "You and Stewie have gotten pretty close." She ended, her gaze unwavering. Brian shifted nervously.  
"Come on, Lois, we've always been close." He replied, a meek smile tugging at his lips. "We may have gotten into spats when we were…" what was he going to say? Young? "Well, what I mean is…"

"Brian you can't play this game with him." Lois interrupted, he tone edgy. Brian's throat constricted. He felt guilty, yet somewhat betrayed. This was not a game to him.

"I'm not playing any games, Lois." Brian ended, the confidence in his voice throwing Lois off balance for a moment. Their gazes were locked. She finally smiled half-heartedly.

"Good." She said softly. "He's always looked up to you, Brian." She added softly. Brian nodded, not really sure how to respond.

"Lois!" Peter called from upstairs. "Lois, will you shave my back?" Brian saw Lois physically shudder.

"I'll be right there!" she called timidly, getting up to start preparing for the night ahead. She threw Brian one last look before climbing the stairs. Brian felt so small.

He returned to the kitchen, Stewie rising to meet him. He fell into Brian as they share a proper embrace in the solitude of each other's company.

Chris was married. Her name was Vanessa. She was the foulest creature to have ever walked the earth. Meg was still single, though she didn't say anything about it. Brian decided earlier that he would not tell them that he was the strange reincarnation of their once beloved family pet. It would all just be far too complicated. Plus, the anonymity of it was somewhat exciting. He settled for "Stu's Friend" instead. And it seemed that they all knew what was meant by the word "friend" which made Brian extremely uncomfortable.

"They look at me like I'm some sort of sick pervert." Brian complained to Stewie over a cigarette. It was so cold he couldn't tell the difference between the smoke and his breath.

"Welcome to my life." Stewie replied without any trace of sympathy, grabbing Brian's cigarette and taking a drag.

"God I haven't had a good cig in god knows how long." Brian mused, waiting for Stewie to finish.

"Filthy habit." Stewie replied, smoke trailing from his lips. Brian scoffed.

"Who cares? If I die, I might just come back to life again. It's all so fucked up…" This earned a harsh laugh from Stewie who moved to stand just a little too close to Brian. Of course, Brian didn't mind. It was pretty cold, after all.

Dinner was mediocre at best, but Lois put her heart into it. The whole family showered her with complements; Vanessa's being a little more profane than the rest. The dinner conversation was rather awkward, as would be expected.

"So," Chris began. "Brian, how did you and Stewie meet?" he asked, his mouth full of potatoes.

"Don't talk when your mouth is full of fucking food, you fat fuck." Vanessa reprimanded. Brian cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Well, it was just sort of… happenstance." He replied, giving a weak smile. Stewie's eyes never left the food in front of him. Lois cut her turkey a little too enthusiastically, the sound of her knife hitting the plate screeching painfully. The rest of the dinner was silent.

"That definitely goes on my top-ten most awkward moments in my life." Stewie remarked as he and Brian climbed the stairs up to Stewie's room. "And that's really saying something." Brian let out an amused "ha."

"Damn." Was all he said. Once they reached the solitude of Stewie's room, Brian felt much more at ease, falling onto the bed.

"The hell is up with Chris's wife?" he asked, bemused as he ran his hands through his hair. Stewie chuckled darkly.

"I don't know, but the world would benefit greatly from her sudden disappearance." He replied. Brian grinned, gazing up at Stewie, who remained standing.

"Couldn't you get some people for that?" he asked, sitting back up. Stewie returned his grin, stepping forward.

"I could probably make some arrangements." He replied nonchalantly, sitting down next to Brian, their shoulders touching. Brian smiled anxiously, as they both leaned in towards each other. Feather light touches shared between two men still seemed so foreign to Brian; glancing a jaw, brushing a cheek. Brian felt a rush of taboo swell within his chest at the thought of everyone downstairs making assumptions about what the two were doing right now. And he liked it.

Brian let his hand wander to the small of Stewie's back, pulling the two of them closer together. Stewie made a small noise of approval against Brian's mouth. Everything was still so new. Brian marveled at the toned muscled along Stewie's sides.

"Do you work out?" Brian asked against Stewie's lips, almost amused at the thought.

"If the mood strikes me." Stewie replied, beginning to trail kisses down Brian's neck, attempting to unbutton his shirt.  
"Hey hey…" Brian scolded. "There are people downstairs. There will be time for this…" what was he going to say, later? Was he ready for this? Brian suddenly became scared as to where all this was progressing. "…later." He settled, his stomach fluttering.

"Good point." Stewie replied sounding disappointed. "We must play the entertainers. Just remember, no past life crap." He reminded. Brian held his hands up in defense.

"Hey, I'm just Brian Fisher, a freelance journalist for the New York Times, what do I know about some dog you used to have?" he replied coyly.

"You would have that back-story." Stewie replied, eyes narrow. "Fisher? The hell did that come from?" Brian shrugged with a goofy grin before getting up to return to what was once his family.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

_A/N: I took Vanessa's character directly from "Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story." I know she was technically blown up by Stewie himself, but I thought she was a hilarious character. _

_I'll try and get another chapter up before the month is out! :)_

_And as for the whole "omfgsex" question, I hope you guys didn't think I was going to have sex in this chapter. It's waaay too soon. But the vote appears to be "tastefully written" scene. So, anon has spoken. More needs to happen first. Thanks for sticking around! _

_Gregor  
_


	18. Christmas Morning

_Hello everyone,  
I apologize for taking so long to update. I've had my big senior demonstrations to write and they're more important than fanfiction. I need to graduate. College awaits. But anyways, I went ahead and squeezed this one out in the mean time. I need to do some time-lapsing in the next chapter, so I though we should finish up Christmas vacation.  
I know some of you wanted more Meg and Chris. Sorry, I hate writing them. (I'm basing Chris off how he acted in the movie, just as a note.)  
Blah blah blah... just read! There's insta-romace!  
_

_Gregor  
_

-------------------------------------------------

**Christmas Morning**

The light's sleep was restless. Brian decided to sleep on the couch to settle Lois's wary glances as bedtime rolled around. The couch was just a tad too small. Brian curled himself into a fetal position and stared at the opposite wall. He couldn't stop thinking about Stewie. Every little thing he did made Brian giddy, even the things he used to abhor, like the way he would scrape the dirt out from underneath his nails. Brian would usually make a snide gay joke. It's funny how the universe turns things around. And then there was the bomb. To think that someone out there was trying, personally, to kill Stewie, _his_ Stewie, made Brian's stomach twist into a knot. Of course, the man was far from innocent, but also far from deserving death. The poor kid was already dealing with enough, what with having… AIDS,

Brian rolled over to face the back of the couch, his face squished against the pillow. He had a sudden urge to hold Stewie as close to him as possible, to smell his hair and feel his skin. His mind inevitably wandered to the possibility of sex. How did sex with another man even work? The question was rhetorical. Brian knew exactly how it worked, and it almost made him a little scared. Not to say that he wasn't completely in favor of seeing Stewie writhing beneath him, panting, begging for more, his hands clutching the bed sheets in desperation… Brian grabbed a fistful of hair, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration as he felt his gut tighten. Even if it did ever come to that, they would have to be particularly careful.

He heard soft movement upstairs, too quiet for the rest of the house to hear. Soft footsteps padded down the stairs. Brian craned his neck around to see Stewie cautiously descending the staircase, hopping over the squeaky step. Brian couldn't help but smile and prop himself up on his elbows.

"What a pleasant surprise." He whispered. Stewie only smiled as he knelt down beside the couch, one arm resting across Brian's lap as he gazed up at the other man longingly.

"Now that I know I can have you, being away from you drives me mad." Stewie replied, stroking Brian's side. Brian leaned down to kiss him gently, before pulling at his shoulders hungrily. Stewie climbed up onto the couch, coming to lie on top of Brian. Brian couldn't help but notice how their hips pressed together. They didn't really fit together, not like a man and a woman, but it didn't bother Brian in the least. He almost liked being entangled with Stewie's long legs, knobby knees, and sharp elbows. It reflected the jagged world in which they were forced to live.

It felt as though they laid there for hours, simply kissing, drinking in the other. When Stewie finally pulled away, he simply snuggled up further, resting his mouth against the curve in Brian's neck.

"I know I kind of skirted around saying it earlier…" Stewie began. "…and maybe it's too early." Brian's hand shot up to stroke Stewie's hair for encouragement. "But uh…" there was eye contact, the soft orange glow from the street lamp outside causing Stewie's eyes to look sunken, tired. "I l-love you, Brian." Stewie faltered, breaking eye contact almost immediately. Brian's stomach twisted once more as his breath left him.

"To be honest, Stewie…" he began, shakily. "I… I love you too. And it feels weird to finally say that and actually mean it." He ended, laughing breathlessly. They both looked at each other for another few seconds, their chests aching, before Stewie viciously captured Brian's mouth in his own.

Christmas morning started earlier than either of the two men would have preferred. Brian woke to the sound of feet coming down the stairs. There was a small moment in which he panicked, Stewie still fast asleep on top of him. Brian quickly closed his eyes again, as Lois softly padded to the kitchen, pausing only momentarily. Brian wondered what she was thinking, before shrugging it off and wrapping his arms more tightly around Stewie, reluctant for the sun to rise.

Once everyone was up and had had a substantial dose of caffeine, the present opening began. Brian had a substantial amount of money still remaining in his wallet, so he bought Lois a nice leather handbag, which she thoroughly appreciated. Peter received a cheap bottle opener that made farting noises (over which he was far too excited). Stewie's gift, of which Brian was most proud, was a silver pocket watch with a delicate engraving of a stylized rose on the back.

"My God, Brian… it's simply beautiful!" Stewie exclaimed, tracing a thumb over the glass face in admiration. Brian glowed, resisting the urge to tackle him.

"Well Brian, I'll have to apologize that Vanessa and I didn't get you a gift. We were caught unprepared." Chris articulated nicely.

"I wish you'd stop fucking apologizing all the fucking time. You sound like a fucking woman." Vanessa irrupted.

"Well I supposed one of you has to be." Lois mumbled under her breath, causing Brian to cough loudly.

Stewie had gotten Brian a nice suite and tie and a set of (very expensive) fountain pens. Brian marveled, reminded of how much money Stewie actually had. After a moment, Stewie sheepishly handed Brian a small bag.

"Just for old times sake." He mumbled. Brian pulled out a small, red ball that squeaked when squeezed. Brian beamed.

"Are you guys getting a dog?" Meg asked, looking genuinely enthused. Stewie shook his head laughing.

"No, no, we already have one."

"Are you guys sure you can't stay another day?" Peter asked, opening his fifth can of beer for the morning, the fart sound echoing off the garage door.

"Positive. I really have to get back to the office as quickly as possible." Stewie replied, shoving his baggage violently into the trunk. They had all chosen to leave Peter out of the loop on the bomb situation. He wouldn't understand.

"Yeah well, you better get your asses back here soon." He commanded, taking a swig of his beer.

"Drive safely." Lois said, reaching up to give Stewie a hug before moving to Brian. Peter gave them both crushing embraces before they were finally able to get on the road, leaving the two figures standing in the driveway.

"That was an interesting Christmas." Brian pointed out. "It felt very disconnected. I mean, Meg barely said three words the entire time. Chris could barely say three words without his bitch of a wife adding her say." Brian continued, waving a hand dramatically. Stewie just nodded, not really listening. The conversation fell silent. After a moment, Brian felt inclined to speak.

"It'll be okay." He said lamely.

"I know." Stewie replied, focused intently on the road.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

_Short, I know... but at least I'm writing?  
Anyways, I took that snarky line from Lois to Vanessa straight from the movie. I lol'd pretty hard at that part.  
Lame, unfulfilling end, but it's late and I need to do my homework. I apologize for any errors. I have no beta._

_Much love,_

_Gregor  
_


	19. The Call

_Back from the dead! I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in over **two months.** I'm terribly abashed. I was really stumped as to where I wanted this story to go, but I worked it all out last night. Enough to where I was inspired to write. So hopefully I can keep it up. There should only be a few more chapters left, if all goes well. Thanks to those of you who are still out there and willing to read. _

_**Warning:** There's a tiny bit of smut in this chapter, but I'm sure it's nothing you can't handle.  
_

_Gregor _

_--------------------------------------------------------_

Chapter 18 - The Call

The flat was cold and musty from being abandoned. The two arrived around six o'clock in the evening. The sun was setting just outside the living room window, painting the city orange. Stewie and Brian carried their bags wearily to their separate bedrooms. Brian felt almost silly standing in the cold dark room alone. He quickly changed his mind and turned on his heel to head for Stewie's room. Stewie was already huddling in front of his computer.

"Over two hundred new e-mails." He said in shock. "I was barely gone four days…" he continued to mumble as he clicked through e-mail after e-mail.

"What are they concerning?" Brian asked, placing his hands on Stewie's shoulders.

"Mostly safety precautions that need to be taken within the company." Stewie sighed, leaning his head back against Brian's chest, closing his eyes before he continued on.

"This is just awful. We've received threats to the company before, and I've received more personal threats than I can count…" Brian tensed as he said this. "But never has it been something so dangerous and violent."

Brian had unconsciously began to massage Stewie's shoulders, receiving a low hum of gratitude it response.

"You keep that up and I won't get anything done." He said with a small smirk. Brian smiled sheepishly, taking his hands away. Stewie turned to look at him.

"Tell me what to do, Stewie." He offered, flashing a weak smile. Stewie looked as though he was in deep thought for a while.

"Okay, here's the plan." Stewie began pointedly "I'm going to send you out to go grocery shopping…" this received an eye-roll from Brian. "We need food!" Stewie exclaimed. "In the mean time, I'm going to head in to the office…"

"No!" Brian interjected, causing Stewie to jump. "You're not going down there alone."

"Brian, it's not like there'd be anything you could do…" Stewie began, but cut himself off after seeing the hurt in Brian's eyes. He exhaled loudly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Listen, I need to go down there for moral support more than anything. It'll take two hours at the _most_." He emphasized, standing up and placing his hands against Brian's chest. "They need me right now, and I need to try and do a little investigating." He continued, tracing his thumbs along Brian's collarbone. Brian still refused to look Stewie in the eye. The word "investigation" made everything sound fun and exciting, two emotions Brian did not feel at the moment.

"I'm not asking you to not be worried, I'm actually quite impressed that you've grown to care about someone other than yourself!" Stewie remarked chirpily, drawing a dry "ha" out of Brian. "All I'm saying is that I would love it if I came home to a late dinner that wasn't cooked in a microwave." He ended with a smirk, tracing small circles on Brian's chest.

"I am not your house wife." Brian returned the smirk, grabbing Stewie by the wrists, their faces inches apart.

"Oh, I didn't say you were! But now you've gone and put such lovely ideas in my head! I can see you now, wearing nothing but an apron as your toil away over a hot stove." He taunted, sliding gracefully out of Brian's grip to slink towards the door. Brian growled as he turned following him, unable to suppress his smile.

Both men agreed that after being in a car all day, they wanted to walk as much as possible. They strode side-by-side down the street, shoulders bumping together every once in a while. At the front of the building, Brian resisted the urge to sweep Stewie up in his arms for a dramatic leave, and instead simply put a hand on his shoulder. The parted in silent agreement, Brian setting off hurriedly down the street. It took a while for the lump in his throat to finally dissolve. He had stopped at a small convenient store to pick up the necessities. Somewhere along the time line, there must have been some sort of organic food revolution.

"Why wasn't I around for this?" Brian mused out loud, picking out several food stuffs with "All Organic" slapped on every label.

After collecting a hodgepodge of different foods, Brian slung the bags over his shoulder and headed back in the direction of the apartment. He passed under the ominous shadow of _Griffin Industries_, avoiding the urge to look over his shoulder after every step. After finally reaching the apartment once more, Brian pushed all bad thoughts and paranoia from his mind and busied himself with cooking. He was never the best cook, unless you can consider boiling water cooking, but he was always up for a challenge, even if it meant failing miserably.

By the time Stewie did return (about and hour later), Brian had managed to concoct something that looked like some sort of extraterrestrial soup.

"I suck at this." Brian whined, defeated.

"It looks… delicious." Stewie said through a gritted smile. Brian threw him a look. They gulped it down as quickly as possible, chasing it with a glass of wine after every bite. Between slurps, Stewie filled him in as much as possible on the situation.

"They believe that most of the attacks are coming from a pseudo-powerful underground terrorist group known as The Fellowship which presides mainly in western Russia, trickling into Ukraine." He managed to get out without spitting up his soup.

"Does this include the first car bomb?" Brian inquired, wondering when exactly Russian and Ukraine developed terrorist groups. Stewie nodded, glancing down at a few papers.

"They managed to collect some of the shrapnel and it matched with previous bomb materials used by The Fellowship." He replied, still flipping through papers. "I can understand why they're attacking the company, we do a fair amount of global sales, including neighboring countries such as China and Germany, both of which have a very powerful global reputation. But don't worry, if there are any more security breaches I'll receive a personal call and, along with the city police, will be at the scene before you can say Motherland." Stewie continued his stream of consciousness, Brian nodding numbly in his wake. In all honesty, it was a lot to take in.

Stewie agreed to wash dishes since Brian cooked, so Brian found himself wandering over to sit on the big leather couch. He turned the TV on simply as a reflex, but chose to stare up at the ceiling instead. It wasn't long until Stewie joined him, sitting down lightly at his side. Brian didn't look over until he felt Stewie place a hand on his thigh.

"Don't look so troubled. Like I said, they're pseudo-powerful. It could be much worse." Stewie attempted. Brian just shook his head.  
"Stewie, look at all the damage they've caused so far. It even looks as if there were people on the inside! That doesn't seem like nothing to be troubled over." Brian said, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temples.

Brian sat with his eyes closed a minute longer until he felt Stewie shift beside him. When he opened his eyes his heart leapt into his throat.

"W-what are you doing!?" he asked in a mixture of shock and disbelief as Stewie knelt on the floor in front of him.

"Taking your mind off the situation." Stewie replied lightly, moving to unbuckle Brian's belt, his nimble fingers working faster than Brian's mind could process.

"Stewie, w-wait, you don't have to… to… oh god." All coherent thought left Brian's head. "Hot" and "wet" were now the only two words that registered in his brain. He felt Stewie's cool, slender fingers slide their way under his shirt, thumbs tracing over his hipbones before settling at the small of his back. The sight would have been too much, so Brian simply took to leaning his head against the back of the couch, slack-jawed in his rapture as his breath came in shallow puffs. There was an infomercial for tighter abs in five days playing in the background. Brian let the corner of his mouth curve upward, squeezing his eyes closed so hard he saw white. His hands found their way to Stewie's hair and it wasn't long before he was double over, letting out a gasp and a moan.

"Jesus…" was all Brian could manage, as he threw himself back against the couch once more, panting heavily. Stewie chuckled, wiping his mouth against the back of his sleeve.

"Please, call me Stewie…" he replied silkily, buttoning up Brian's pants before crawling up to curl into his side. Brian, still breathing heavily, flopped his head over to look at Stewie, who currently had a huge, shit-eating grin on his face. Brian managed a smile before he pushed Stewie away playfully.

"Do I repay you?" Brian asked, unsure of how these things were supposed to go down. Stewie flat out laughed.

"Later." He said, kissing Brian's temple before engaging further. Operation "Distract Brian From Real-Life Issues" was a success.

They enjoyed a long minute of slow, lingering kisses before the phone rang and caused them both to jump. They looked at each other before Stewie checked his watch. It read five past nine. Timidly, Stewie got up and walked over to the phone as it rang again. He answered with a strong "Hello?" which would have fooled anyone into thinking that he hadn't just given a blowjob minutes earlier. Brian smiled internally at that thought. His smile was gone after a look of utmost concern crossed Stewie's features. Without saying a word to whoever was on the other end of the line, he hung up forcefully, practically running down the hall and to the bedroom. Brian was in quick pursuit.

"What's wrong?" he called, jogging down the hall.

"Security breach." Stewie called back from the room, his voice dry and emotionless. As Brian rounded the corner into the room, he was in time to see Stewie grabbing a jacket and a small handgun out of his bedside table.

"Jesus Christ, Stewie!" Brian cried, trying to stop him before he bustled out of the bedroom.

"Brian I have to go down there." He said as he moved swiftly down the hall, across the living room and into the kitchen, collecting the papers up off the table.

"Then I'm coming too." Brian said with more conviction than he felt.

"Brian," Stewie began, but was cut off.

"No. There's nothing to debate." Brian replied hastily. "I'm coming whether you give me permission to or not." He ended, grabbing his own jacket off the coat rack. They simply gazed at each other for a few seconds before Stewie nodded, opened the door, and they both stepped out together.

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_Cliff hanger! Don't worry, I know exactly where I want the next chapter to go, so it shouldn't be long. (Famous last words...)_

_Gregor  
_


	20. Mouse Meets Cat

_Hello everyone! Well, we're reaching the end of this story. Of course, the more I look back the more I feel abashed and simply want to change EVERYTHING... but I'm getting sick of writing romance. There's a new story in the works! Hopefully I can get it started soon. Still in the FG universe, but with a crossover twist. What could it be!? Ah well, I'll stop being obnoxious and let you read the chapter. _

_Tally ho!_

_Gregor_

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Chapter 19 - Mouse Meets Cat

The short drive consisted of mostly silence with short mutterings from Stewie about never getting one seconds rest. Brian twiddled his thumbs nervously. He was unsettled by he fact that Stewie had grabbed a gun. _It's just precautionary._ Brian told himself, looking anxiously out the car window. They pulled up in front of the massive, dark building, towering like an ominous tombstone over the rest of the city. Several cop cars had already arrived, lights flashing authoritatively. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. Stewie practically flew out of the car and over to the nearest officer. Brian got out much more slowly, walking over to join in the assessment.

"Well, we got the signal that someone had entered into your secondary private office by force. Of course this triggered the silent alarm right away, but the audible alarm was triggered upon attempt to access the computer three times and failing."

Brian was afraid the worry lines on Stewie's face would be permanent.

"Have officers been sent up to survey the damage?" he asked promptly, looking around expectantly. The officer looked abashed.

"No, sir, we only just arrived shortly before you did, sir. We have sent a small team to survey the premises, however, making sure to catch anyone if they try to escape." He replied. Stewie exhaled loudly.  
"Very well, I would like to go up and see the damage for myself…" Stewie began, ignoring the disapproving sound made by Brian. "And I would like several well-armed officers to come with me." He finished, making Brian feel marginally better.

"I'm coming too." He interjected. Stewie gave a curt nod, while the officer attempted to look patient.

Soon enough, Stewie, himself, and a heavily armed team of three officers hurtling upwards in the ear-popping elevator to the temporary office set up after the explosion located on the 49th floor. Brian felt Stewie's hand slip into his own and he gave it a gentle squeeze before the door opened and the five of them walked out into the dimly lit hallway. They made an immediate right and followed the hall to the end where they found the door handle to have been ripped off.

"Elegant bunch of brutes…" Stewie commented coolly as one of the officers pushed the door open with his gun. The three men entered the room dramatically, pointing their guns in every direction before giving the "OK" for Brian and Stewie to enter.

"Uhg, what a mess." Stewie exclaimed, seeing the office for the first time. The walls were lined with boxes of salvaged paperwork, some without lids showed the somewhat scorched files within. The desk set ominously in the center of the room, a lone computer placed in the center.

"Remind me to relieve my interior decorator." Stewie quipped, leaning towards Brian ever so slightly, who returned the comment with a grin. He was feeling terribly uneasy, but tried not to show it.

"All clear, Mr. Griffin." One of the officers informed them both. "We checked for any abnormal devices as well as any…" Stewie waved them off.

"I trust your judgment. Thank you gentlemen. If you will please do a sweep of the rest of the floor, I will tend to checking the files to make sure nothing was harmed or stolen." He commanded elegantly, moving to sit down behind the desk. The officers exited the room, leaving Stewie and Brian to their own. Stewie peered over the desk at Brian, who was starting at the closed door.

"See? Nothing to worry about." Stewie said silkily. Brian simply shook his head.

"Trust me, Stewie, something isn't right. I'll feel a hell of a lot better once we get the fuck out of here." He concluded, striding over to stand beside Stewie at the desk. Stewie gave him a sidelong glance, running a finger across the screen of the computer to wake it from its slumber. He froze soon after. Brian did as well, their eyes glued to the screen. On it appeared a lone message: _My move._

"Get under the desk." Stewie said in a near whisper. Brian didn't think twice before he dove beneath the desk, expecting Stewie to follow. Instead he watched his feet disappear from the floor, hurling himself over the top, pulling his gun out of hiding.

There was a loud bang as the door to the office was kicked in. Brian flinched as four shots were fired from Stewie's gun and four bodies were heard falling to the ground. Then there was the terrifying moment where three distinct _clicks_ were heard, signifying that Stewie had forgotten to fully load the gun. Terror raced through Brian's body as he heard a deep, throaty laugh from the doorway.

"We did not expecting you to have gun." A man with a heavy, eastern European accent exclaimed, almost sounding amused. Brian was on the verge of hysteria as he heard Stewie make a desperate noise upon being forcefully grabbed by one of the men. His useless gun clacked to the floor.

"Tell me, were you to be thinking you could outsmart us? You Americans are all the same, to think you much better than rest of the world. So proud!" his voice rumbled through the room and Brian could hear Stewie struggling to breathe. While the man continued his monologue, Brian happened to glance up to see a gun strapped to the bottom of the desk. His heart jumped at the revelation and he gingerly reached up to pry it from its case. He cradled it gingerly in his lap, finger hovering just above the trigger. What was he going to do, though? Jump out and shoot like a mad man? He didn't know how many men there were. He knew Stewie had shot four.

As if Stewie had read his mind, he managed to get out "So there are only two of you then?" he asked, his voice strained, letting Brian know that the man still had a firm grip on his throat. It made Brian wince to think about it.

"In this room, yes." The second man replied, his voice deep, but without as thick of an accent. "But we have men across all the world. You think you can get be getting away with these so-called business deals? We can to destroy all your assets over night, then we see what it is, these allies." The man continued.

Brian was becoming horribly anxious. He wanted to jump out, shoot the two men, grab Stewie, and ride off into the sunset. He knew that most of that was improbable as well as illogical. He had never even fired a gun before, at least not as a human. He heard Stewie being shoved to the floor as he gasped for breath.

"I think he should suck my cock, yes?" the man with the deepest voice asked, receiving a chuckle from the other. Brian felt his face becoming hot with rage.

"Oh yes, definitely. And they say I'm the faggot." Stewie quipped quietly.

"What is that you are saying!?" one of the men roared. He heard Stewie help from being hit across the face, most likely with the gun. Brian had to do something fast or he might lose his chance. He was gripping the handle of the gun tightly, about to pop out of hiding when something stopped him.

"Go over and get him to be telling the access codes. Then we take the turns fucking him." The deeper voice said. Brian's heart leapt into his throat as he heard footsteps nearing the desk. Two large, booted feet stopped just inches from his own.

"Kakoy eta…?" the man began, bending down to look under the desk. Brian, feeling the rush of adrenaline flood his veins had enough of a mind to smile before pulling the trigger. It was hard for Brian to comprehend that he just took someone's life, until the blood came. Blood everywhere: blood on his face, on his hands, on the desk, on the window behind them. His ears were ringing from the shot. He could faintly hear a muffled scream and two shots being fired. He scrambled out from behind the desk to find Stewie standing over a large man with a thick, black beard, two bullet wounds in his chest.

"Stewie…" Brian began, but Stewie cut him off with a look.

"Not now. Quickly, come with me." He commanded. Brian obeyed. He led him out into the hallway, gun up and at the ready. Brian mimicked his actions in the opposite direction. The both made it safely to the elevator, keeping their guns pointed at the door the entire time. Bran glanced out of the corner of his eye at Stewie. His long, elegant, beautiful neck had deep purple finger marks on it. His lip was split and bleeding, and there was a horrible gash beneath his right eye in the middle of what would surely be a bruise. Overall, he could physically see Stewie shaking, his face paler than it should have been. Brian resisted spewing pointless words of comfort. He knew they wouldn't help. When they finally reached ground level, police were swarming the extravagant lobby.

"There are six dead men on the 49th floor. Stewie roared, his voice commanding enough to still the whole damn room. "I want as many men up there as it takes to get the bastards down here and into a morgue for identification. You…" he pointed at a scared looking young officer. "Call and ambulance. I doubt any of them are still alive, but I definitely need to be patched up. And you," he continued, pointing at another officer. "I want this gun examined. Take the whole bloody thing apart if you have to, I want to know where it's from, when it was made, and who the bloody hell sold it to fucking terrorists!" He roared. Brian watched in awe at Stewie's ability to bend a large, unruly crowd of people to his will. If the circumstances were any different, he would have totally been turned on.

"Stewie…" Brian cooed gently, reaching up in attempts to wipe some of the blood off his face.

"Don't touch me!" he hissed, smacking Brian's hand away forcefully. "Are you insane or just ignorant?" he shot back. Suddenly Brian was flooded with realization.

"I'm… sorry. I…" he began, feeling sheepish. "But wait… didn't you just… back at the apartment you…" For a moment Brian was actually worried. Stewie rolled his eyes and began striding towards the door, expecting Brian to follow, which he did.

"It cannot be transferred through saliva, unless you pumped liters of it into your blood stream directly. Which would be as stupid as it is practical, so don't worry. You're not infected." Stewie spat out the last few words as if they left a bad taste on his tongue.

When they finally got outside, the distant wail of an ambulance siren could be heard. Stewie swayed dangerously on his feet. Brian reached out and steadied him, giving any of his cuts a wide berth. Stewie's shoulders shook uncontrollably beneath Brian's fingers.

"Brian…?" Stewie began, his voice higher than it was inside and wavering slightly. Brian swallowed hard.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound calm. Stewie turned to look at him, even paler than he was in the elevator, his eyes sunken and his cheeks hollow.

"I don't feel very good." was all he could manage before slipping from consciousness. Brian finally went into full out panic mode. He yelled for assistance as two female police officers rushed to his side, helping him to steady Stewie until they could lower him onto the steps until the ambulance arrived. Brian sat behind him, letting Stewie's weight fall into his chest.

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_Thanks for the reviews, per usual! _

_Kakoy eta? = What's is...? (Russian)  
_


	21. Usher

_Finishing this story was one of the hardest things I've ever attempted to write. With a years worth of time to think it over and then rethink, reinvent, recalculate... I almost threw it all away. There was so much pressure to not disappoint all you readers that I almost ran away.  
Of course, I didn't let myself.  
_

_So here it is. It's imperfect, but it's here. I feel like I've grown so much in the year that I couldn't bring myself to finish this. I started this in high schoo, now I end it as a college student. It's strange...  
I just want to thank anyone and everyone who's still reading this. You're kind reviews are what drove me to the finish. I hope you were able to see past the imperfections and plot holes and into the good I tried to write into this story. _

_Without further adieu,_

**Chapter 20 - Usher**_  
_

Brian sat outside of the ER, his hands cradled in his hands. He couldn't tell how much time had passed, but it was dark out. There was a lump in his throat that refused to go away. He had broken into a cold sweat on the ride to the hospital. He refused to let go of Stewie's hand, and finally the paramedics had to push him into a corner in the ambulance. Seeing the young, powerful, successful man so weak tore Brian apart from the inside. Stewie was so many things to him. He felt so selfish and juvenile. Of course he needed some sort of dramatic event to make him fully understand the impact Stewie had had on him; the impact that he had always had on him.

Someone called his name from the door, causing him to look up. Lois and Peter rushed towards him. He stood, opening his arms as Lois embraced him.

"Brian, what happened? What did they do to my baby?" Lois all but sobbed, Peter's hand coming down onto her shoulders.

"There was a terrorist attack. Stewie… God, he handled it like nothing I've ever seen. He was amazing." Brian trailed off, looking over his shoulder. "They have him in IC at the moment. I think the stress was just too much…"

Lois clung to Peter's arm, shaking.

"When can we see him?" She asked desperately, breaking Brian's heart.

"Th-they didn't tell me. I'm sorry Lois. I didn't think to ask." He choked out, beginning to break down. "I barely know his condition." He fell back down into the chair, fighting back tears of frustration. Peter had a blank look on his face somewhere between disbelief and denial. He remained silent. He and Lois moved to sit down, prepared to wait it out.

Brian felt physically exhausted. With Lois and Peter huddled quietly in the sterile, plastic-covered chairs across from him, he resigned to close his eyes for a moment. He let his mind slowly ease into a restful state.

"Are you Mr. Griffin's family?" came a voice, sounding as if it was speaking through a barrel. Brian opened his eyes to see a young, female doctor approaching them.

"Yes." Lois answered hoarsely. The doctor sighed, lifting up the clipboard to thumb through the pages.

"I want you to know that Stuart is stable, but he is very weak. He gave us quite a scare, but overall I think he'll be able to go home in a couple of days." The doctor began to explain. Lois broke down sobbing onto Peter's shoulder as Brian grabbed the arms of the chair to push himself up. He extremities felt like lead.

"Thank you very much, Doctor. Uh… if it's not too much to explain, can you let us know what happened?" Brian asked shakily, his own voice like a distant echo in his head.

"Well, all the stress really took a toll on him. In his condition, his body… well, as autoimmune diseases go, it began attacking itself with a vengeance. We have him stabilized. That's all you need to know." The doctor concluded, glancing subtly at her pager.

"I understand. Thank you." Brian replied flatly. "When can we see him?"

"I'll have a nurse take you to his room now. I believe he's awake." The doctor waved down a nurse as she spoke and soon they were being led down a brightly lit, sterile hallway.

"Mr. Griffin is in here. Please try to keep your voices low." The nurse reminded as she opened the door and motioned for them to enter.

The room's lights had been dimmed. Brian had the distinct feeling of moving through something thick, like jelly, as he entered the room. The air smelled of disinfectant and sickness. Stewie lay on the bed, various IVs trailing along his arm. He looked small and frail, but his eyes were bright and healthy. He smiled at Brian, opening his mouth to speak.

"Are you Mr. Griffin's family?" Stewie asked in a voice that wasn't his own.

"What?" Brian questioned, his face contorting in confusion as be began moving slowly towards the bed.

"Yes, we are." Came Lois's reply from across the room. How did she get over there?

Brian's eyes snapped open. He had dosed off. He felt his heart shatter, as shook himself awake. He straightened up too quickly causing a sharp pain in his neck. An old, weathered man stood before them in a white doctor's coat holding a clipboard. Brian exhaled shakily.

"I'm afraid Mr. Griffin is in critical condition. He's asleep right now and needs to stay that way. I'm sorry, but we can't allow you to see him until morning." The doctor spoke only to Lois and Peter.

"Can you at least tell us what's going on?" Brian asked, rising from the chair. The doctor eyed him, before turning back to Lois and Peter.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have any further information to give you. At the moment, we're just trying to make sure he's stable. Any visitations will have to wait until morning."

"But what happened?" Brian half shouted. "What caused him to…"

"I'm sorry, but it will have to wait until morning." The doctor repeated, before turning and walking briskly back down the hall. Brian felt rage boiling just below his skin. He knew that there was nothing he could do. That was the worst part. After he'd taken a few calming breaths, he turned to a teary Lois and eerily silent Peter.

"Come on, you guys can stay at Stewie's place for the night."

The three rose and exited the hospital in silence.

* * *

Brian was jolted awake. He scrambled for the bedside alarm clock. It read 3:30 AM. He sighed, running a hand over his face before flopping back down onto the bed. He had decided to sleep in Stewie's room, giving Lois and Peter the guest room. Brian rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his face into the pillow. It smelled like Stewie. He ran his hands over the soft sheets beneath the comforter. They were cold to the touch. He almost felt like sobbing at the extreme feeling of loneliness and helplessness that washed over him. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding himself together with deep, labored breaths. The house was almost completely silent. He couldn't hear any signs of there being a world outside their walls.

Suddenly, the sound of a lighter being clicked made him jerk around, sitting up in bed. A dark figure stood at the end of his bed, faceless, wearing a dark gray suit with a dull red tie. It blew smoke out of its lipless mouth.

"Hello Brian." It spoke without really speaking.

Brian was frozen with terror, his elbows locking him in an upright position.

"I would say I'm sorry to spring this upon you, but that would be a lie. I'm simply doing my job." It continued, its lips moving out of sync with its words.

"Wh-who are you?" Brian managed to whisper, still unable to move.

"Who I am doesn't really matter. What I am, is more important. I am an Usher. Just as you are an Usher, of sorts."

"A what?"

"An Usher." It repeated patiently, its voice calm. "You never really gave it much thought did you? Why you were suddenly alive once more? Suddenly human? Why you just happened to find him?" It spoke to Brian as if it were speaking to a child.  
"Unlike your life as a dog, in this one you will actually serve a purpose." It continued, voice free of any emotion. Brian felt a dull sting at the comment, but had no response.

"You're not real." He finally croaked, his elbows giving out as he fell back against the headboard.

"I am very real." It replied calmly. "I know of your beliefs, and I'm here to inform you, no, _remind_ you that there_ is_ something after death." It finished its cigarette by extinguishing it into the palm of its hand and popping the butt into its mouth. "What is after death is entirely up to you." Brian shivered unconsciously.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"No."

"What?"

"You should be asking "Why am _I_ here?" It corrected. Brian remained silent, so it went on.

"You are an Usher." It repeated.

"You already said that." Brain snapped, no longer threatened. It continued to speak as if it had not heard him.

"You were recreated with the purpose of assisting in the ushering of his life from this world to the next." It explained, moving its hands long, bony in slow, precise movements to illustrate the point. Brian felt his feet go cold, blood pumping in his ears. The Usher didn't have to say a name; Brian knew he meant Stewie.

"Why?" he whispered.

"Why? Why do you have to usher him or why did we choose you?" It asked, almost toying with him.

"Both!" Brian barked. He felt himself becoming frustrated with the creature while simultaneously trying to convince himself that none of this was real. He was simply tired and stressed from the events of the day. This was another dream. The Usher shifted, seeming to draw in a breath.

"Something lay unfinished between he and yourself. You were taken from each other too soon. In the flow of life, you both needed fulfillment or else there would be a small 'wrinkle,' so to speak, in the circle of existence. The order of things is always right, yet sometimes things need to be corrected." It concluded vaguely, folding its long hands together.

"You and he are kindred." It continued in the wake of Brian's silence. "Two souls that cannot be separated _must_ not be separated."

A long silence filled the room. Brian felt his head come alive with a strange understanding. None of it made sense, and yet something told him it was okay.

"I don't understand." He finally confessed.

"All you must understand," the Usher began, extending his hand towards Brian in a dramatic arc. "is that you never will."

It was against everything Brian had ever believed. In retrospect, he felt horribly embarrassed about how much of his life he spent blindly ignoring anything spiritual. However, the time for speculations was past. With only a moment's hesitation, Brian reached out to take the Usher's extended hand. In an instant they were back at the hospital, standing in the room that housed Stewie. The hospital was quiet and dark as if no one was there. Brian stepped forward, moving to stand beside Stewie's bed. He gazed down at the prone figure, reduced to a tangle of tubes and wires, his breath shallow. He was a man who had grown up too fast, his face still retaining hints of being a boy. Too fast. Too _soon_.

"Does it have to be now?" Brian asked, thinking of Lois and Peter asleep back in Stewie's massive apartment. How would they cope? The Usher nodded solemnly.

"If not now, then he will have to suffer through the slow destruction of his human body. Right now, in this state, his mind is open to the possibility of separation." It explained patiently, fingering another cigarette that seemed to appear out of thin air.

"How do I…?" Brian began, gulping. His throat was dry and rough.

"Reach for him." The Usher said simply.

Brian swallowed once more. Leaning forward, he placed both hands on Stewie's shoulders, attempting to pull him into a sitting position. He couldn't help but gasp as his fingers moved through Stewie, seeming to pull a second body out of him. This body was free of tubes and needles, his face fuller.

"Stewie." Brian whispered, one hand moving to support the back of the young man's neck. Slowly, breathlessly, he watched Stewie's eyes open. They were bright, youthful, like in Brian's dream.

"Brian." Stewie said, his face cracking into a huge grin. He watched in astonishment as this Stewie swung his legs around off the hospital bed and lept up to wrap his arms around Brian's neck.

"I knew you'd wait until I woke! I knew you'd stay by my side." He practically sang, his body radiating warmth that Brian didn't quite understand.

"Stewie…" he began, his voice shaky, unwrapping the man's arms from around his neck. Stewie looked at him, smile faltering when Brian's gaze refused to meet his. Finally, he turned around to look back at the bed, his own body lying there without him.

"I'm dead." He said, completely monotone.

"Not quite yet. Simply separated." The Usher piped up from the corner. Stewie whirled around to gape at the creature, mouth moving wordlessly.

"Brian?" he all but whimpered, turning back to look at the man beside him with pleading eyes. Brian took a deep breath.

"We never gave much thought to why I had returned huh?" he asked, ashamed that he was laughing, but not knowing what else to do. Stewie looked shocked, stricken.

"I don't want to die." He pleaded, and Brian saw the child he used to be standing before him. "I don't want to die." He repeated, swaying on his feet.

"Stewie." Brian reached out with one hand to steady him, the other taking hold of Stewie's chin. They looked into each others eyes. "I left you those many years ago. I left you alone in a world that could never handle you. Your genius. And it still can't." He assured, moving to cup Stewie's face with his hand. "If I had been given a choice, I would have stayed with you through it all... You were my only and best friend." He gulped, not sure where he was going with this. "Now… now it's apparent." He said with a laugh of disbelief. "There's just no separating us." Brian let out a real laugh. "We're quite a pair of partners, just like Velma and Louise…" He sang lightly, pressing their foreheads together. Stewie let out a small chuckle, despite himself, bringing his hands up to rest over Brian's. The stood in silence for a moment, the weight of everything slowly settling on their shoulders.

"What about Lois… Mom?" Stewie finally asked. "What about… Dad?" He continued, awkwardly. "Chris? Meg?" his voice cracked with emotion. "I can't… I can't even say goodbye?"

"I'm afraid not." The Usher spoke once more. "You must both agree to move on together. That's the only way." It stated, emotionless. Stewie swallowed dryly, eyes looking anywhere but his own body that still lay on the hospital bed.

"I want to see them first."

The hospital room was soon empty save for Stewie's broken body, the sound of a steady beep filling the air.

* * *

Stewie stood beside Brian, the two of them looking down on Lois and Peter, both fast asleep in the guest bedroom of Stewie's apartment. The couple breathed silently, unaware of the two fleeting ghosts of men that hovered near by. The Usher was gone. They were on their own time now.

"I spent half my life hating that woman." Stewie said, his tone cold. "And now…" he rubbed his eyes angrily. "Now I can't imagine leaving her here." He finished quickly, his voice cracking. Brian simply stood beside him, unmoving. Stewie slowly walked over to where his parents lay. He stood for a moment before he slowly bent down to place a small kiss on Lois's forehead. She stirred slightly before exhaling loudly and curling closer to Peter. Stewie stepped soundlessly back next to Brian's side.

"What's going to happen?" he asked, unable to keep the fear from his voice. Brian smiled weakly.

"I don't know." He admitted. "But, for once, I'm not worried." He confessed, looking to Stewie and smiling. His smiled was returned with one of hope and trust. They took each others hands, feeling fulfilled at last, and all at once, the room was empty.

Somewhere off in the night, a baby cried, a dog howled, lovers slept in each others arms, and the order of the world was right.

_Fin._

_Life was not a valuable gift, but death was. Life was a fever-dream made up of joys embittered by sorrows, pleasure poisoned by pain; a dream that was a nightmare-confusion of spasmodic and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exultations, happinesses, interspersed with long-drawn miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments, defeats,humiliations, and despairs-the heaviest curse devisable by divine ingenuity; but death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man's best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free._  
_ - Mark Twain, Letters from the Earth_


End file.
